The Smut Diary
by Vonnuit
Summary: Best friends Santana and Brittany begin a 'Smut Diary' for their own amusement, which ranks their classmate's sexual prowess and details their exploits. But when the diary gets out, the Cheerios' reputation is tainted, much to the chagrin of their coach, Sue Sylvester, and head cheerleader, Quinn Fabray. Slightly AU/Slighty Canon. Some chapters will be a hard M.
1. Fish Lips & Chapstick

Santana and Quinn had never been friends per se. The first time they met had been back in kindergarten. They hadn't liked each other then, and neither of them really saw that changing anytime soon. It had all started with a fight over Santana's markers. They had been coloring pictures together when the blonde girl decided that she didn't want to use her crayons anymore. Even though Santana didn't want to share, she eventually obliged and all was fine… Until, Quinn decided to try to tell her that she was coloring Pocahontas' hair wrong.

"Santana, you can't color it blue," The little girl stated in a very matter of fact voice, her little eyebrows scrunching together.

Not appreciating her tone, Santana replied, "I can color it any color I want."

"It's supposed to be black."

"Well, mine is blue."

"Well, it's wrong." The blonde says defiantly, sticking a pouty lip out at her.

_This bitch._

Even though Santana was sure she didn't know the word back then, it was a thought that had stuck with her throughout the rest of their grade school days together. After kindergarten, they hadn't reconnected with one another until they reached McKinley Middle School. From there on, the girls had traveled in similar circles since they both strived to popular and so because of these circumstances, they had more or less accepted one another's presence and became frenemies.

Everything seemed to come easy for the blonde, which just pissed Santana off all the more. The girl never had to go very far to get attention. Boys always wanted her, girls always wanted to be her. Teachers never gave her a hard time if she was late for class like they did Santana. Her family was well off, not rich exactly but they never had to worry about money. And to top it all off, she was the president of the celibacy club. Icing on the cake.

The slight crack in her armor had come last year when Puck had gotten her pregnant, which Santana had secretly (or not so secretly) been a little bit thrilled about. However, it was a fact people seemed to forget all too soon because when they returned from summer break, it was as if nothing had changed. Sue Sylvester had reinstated the blonde as head cheerleader and no one really looked at her any differently, including the guys.

There they were now, drooling over her like total turds. Santana glares at the sight of them surrounding her locker.

"Are Barbies flammable?"

Her friend Brittany stops shuffling through her locker as she answers seriously. "Only their hair."

"It isn't fair," She says as she shakes her head disdainfully. "She should at least be impeached from celibacy club. There should be a rule against baby mommas being prez."

"Who would take over though? Preggers Quinn is still more virginal than any of us… Except maybe Berry."

"Well, look at what she has to work with." They watch as Rachel and Finn walk down the hallway together. "He looks like a baby whale."

"_You_ slept with him."

Santana shakes her head a bit sadly as if in disbelief. "It was a dark time in my life. Literally, he eclipses the sun."

Quinn makes her way over to them, leaving Sam behind with a sad puppy dog look on his face. "Practice after school today at four, ladies."

She's about to walk away when Santana speaks up, a bit annoyed. "Wait, what? That only gives us a fifteen-minute break after school. Usually we get a half hour."

The blonde raises an eyebrow at her, "If you have a problem with it, you can take it up with Coach Sylvester… Though after the whole boob job debacle, I'd think twice about it if I were you." Her eyes scan the Latina, waiting for her inevitable comeback.

"We'll be there," Brittany adds, trying to cool them both down.

Quinn nods before walking away, seeming a bit surprised by the fact that Santana bites her tongue. "Good."

The two girls stand by Britt's locker as they watch her go.

"You should really try to be nicer to her. Maybe that way you wouldn't always end up on the bottom of the pyramid," Brittany points out even though she knows that the brunette doesn't really hear her, she's too concentrated on burning holes into Quinn's back.

The warning bell rings as they begin making their way toward their first period classes.

"Trust me. The fact that all her limbs are still attached to her body _is_ me being nice to her… Remind me again why we hang out with her… Quinn Fabray is a fucking vampire," Santana says with venom in her voice.

Her tone doesn't seem to bother Brittany as she's used to her friend's less than cheery disposition. "We hang out with her because she's popular and she can be fun sometimes. Also just for the record, I always thought that between the three of us you would make the better vampire, and I would be the magical mermaid that lives in an aquarium at Sea World whose diet consists only of Spam and jellyfish blood."

The brunette looks a bit mortified at her words. "…Yeah. You can be the mermaid." She pauses then asks curiously, "What does that make, Quinn?"

"Probably some kind of fairy."

Santana seems to ponder the thought and then nods agreeably. "She does bear a slight resemblance to Tinkerbell, and they're both attention whores so I guess it works out."

They reach their history class right before the final bell rings and work their way into their seats near the back of the classroom. The Latina sighs to herself as she watches Quinn seated in one of the desks nearer the front, talking animatedly to Finn. She chuckles to herself. Pulling out her phone, she texts Britt.

**Blubber boy is so not over Q. It's pathetic.**

The Latina expertly hides her phone behind her history textbook as the teacher tries to get everyone to turn to a certain page number but Santana can't be bothered with listening. Her phone buzzes as she looks at Britt's response.

**Who iz this?**

Santana can't help herself as she exclaims out loud, "Seriously?" Her classmates turn around to look at her as she tries to bullshit her way through this one by adding, "Seriously, history is… yeah."

The teacher at the front of the room just shakes his head sadly but knows better than to get into it with the girl so he pushes his glasses up his nose and continues with the lecture. Angrily, Santana texts out her next message.

**IT'S SANTANA!**

A look of realization passes over Brittany as she reads the message and speaks out loud as well, "Ohhhh." Their classmates ignore them this time around as they've become used to the girls' shenanigans.

**Sry, I still haven't figured out how 2 add contacts. Every time I make progress, Lord T deletes them while I'm sleeping.**

Exasperated, Santana plops her head on the desk in front of her and doesn't bother moving it for the rest of the period.

_[\\]_

After school, Santana and Brittany head out to the football field to start on their stretches before cheer practice begins. They both sprawl out on the grass, working on their leg stretches as they watch the football team doing warm-ups.

"New kid has a pretty nice bod," Santana says referring to Sam. "I wonder if he's allergic to Q though, his lips look pretty swollen."

Upon hearing her name, Quinn looks over at Britt and Santana from where she's seated a few feet away. "Not funny."

Seeing an opportunity for some juicy gossip, the Latina decides to prod a little bit further. "I saw him by your locker this morning. You can tell he wants the V. So, when you gonna give it up?"

The girl looks at her a bit taken aback. "Um, how about never? We all know how well it went for me the first time."

"You should probably drink less milk. It helps fertilize your eggs or something," Brittany adds.

Santana chuckles. "Seriously, you must be doing something wrong cause I've slept with Puckerman loads of times and you don't see me with a bun in my oven."

"It's the milk," Brittany says quietly, though both girls ignore her.

"Well, if you don't want him, I'm sure someone else will," The Latina adds with a smirk.

The blonde looks at her sensing the challenge. "I never said I didn't want him… You don't have to have sex to be with somebody."

"Said no high schooler ever."

"Crude." Quinn shoots her a disapproving look.

"Prude." Santana shoots her one back.

"Shampoo…" As if finally realizing her presence, Santana and Quinn turn to look at Brittany, both a bit perplexed. "Oh, we weren't rhyming? The sexy Dr. Seuss vibe threw me off…"

Quinn sighs in exasperation and gets up off the field to run a couple laps. In the wake of her absence, Santana turns to Brittany, a devious look in her eye.

"Plan of action: one of us is going to get into Sam's pants before Quinn does… For science of course… We have to complete our diary," She says, somewhat excited by the thought of the chase. She calms down a little bit when she remembers the target. "It might have to be you though because with those lips, he might literally be capable of sucking a girl's face off… And you don't discriminate."

"What's that mean?" Brittany asks not knowing whether or not to be offended.

"You're dating meals on wheels," The brunette says as if it's a logical argument.

"Exactly, I'm _dating_. So it has to be you," The blonde says pointedly.

She wrinkles up her a face a little bit and looks at him as she sizes him up. "Okay, I'll take one for the team… Replacing Finn as quarterback does give him a certain hotness factor… Imma get on those Jagger lips," The brunette says doing a little dance that causes Brittany to giggle.

The blonde stops immediately though when she sees the woman standing behind the Latina. Santana looks up to meet the eyes of a disgruntled Sue Sylvester.

"If you ever shake your buttocks like that again while you're on _my_ field, you are _off_ this team and onto the nearest stripper pole. The professional in me fully embraces the concept that sex sells but there is a time and a place to shake your hoo-hah, and unless you are flying three feet in the air, flashing judges in order for us to win that national championship, that time is _never_."

She steps away from them, turning on her megaphone. "Time to sweat, ladies!" When one of the guys looks like he's about to speak up in protest, she quickly cuts him off. "Did I hurt your _feelings_, fancy pants? Your _vagina's_ showing."

_[\\]_

Once practice is over, Santana decides to wait for Sam by the bleachers. She watches his face break out into a small smile when he sees her, noting that perhaps he was more attractive than she gave him credit for. The boy looks somewhat surprised as she approaches him, which only adds to her confidence.

"Hey, how you doin?" He says in a weird voice. When she looks at him blankly he finishes, "You know, Friends… The TV show? Joey?"

Suddenly, she begins to question her resolve. "You're killing me here, Fish Lips."

He shrugs off her comment and looks at her curiously. "So… What can I help you with?"

Settling back into her groove, she says coolly, "What can I help _you_ with?"

"I'm not sure if I get your meaning…" The blonde boy looks genuinely confused.

She sighs; teenage boys are so hopeless sometimes. "Look, I know you have a thing going with Q but she'll only go so far and I know that teenage guys have needs. I have the same needs so maybe we could help each other out?"

He seems to look around a bit nervously, not really knowing what to do in this situation. "I really like Quinn…"

"Whoa, slow your roll. I'm not looking for anything. It'd just be sex," She states simply.

"I'm not really sure if I'm into that. I kind of want it to mean something…"

"It's not like you have to make up your mind right away... Are you going to Berry's party tonight?"

Sam nods. "Yeah…" After a slight hesitation he adds in a serious tone, "With Quinn."

She raises an eyebrow at him and pats his shoulder as she walks away, "See you there."

Quinn makes her way toward Sam, her duffle bag slung over her shoulder. She sees Santana walking away as she nears him. Seeing the cute blonde boy brings a smile to the blonde's face as she wraps her arms around his neck.

"Hey, what was that all about?" She gestures slightly toward the Latina.

He looks a bit anxious when he finally answers, "I think she was coming on to me."

The girl raises an eyebrow and chuckles softly. "Well, that's Santana for you."

Sam seems a bit confused by her reaction. "It doesn't bother you?"

Quinn grinds her teeth before responding. "Oh no, it does bother me, and that's why she does it. Santana Lopez has always been a grade A bitch. It goes all the way back to kindergarten." She removes her arms from around his neck, getting flustered at the memory. "She wouldn't let me use her markers even though she was _always_ stealing my crayons. I had to keep getting new ones because she kept breaking the tips off them and, don't ask me why, but I can't use crayons that don't have their proper tips. Anyway, I was giving her some constructive criticism about her coloring and she took it the wrong way… Pocahontas having blue hair is just wrong on so many levels…"

The blonde boy wraps his arms around the girl in an attempt to calm her down. Once he feels her heartbeat return to a normal rate, he plants a tiny kiss on top of her head.

"You're right. Blue hair is overrated… Unless it's on Katy Perry," He says teasingly.

When he looks down, he sees her grinning at him as she gives him a light punch to the stomach. "Ass."

He puts an arm around her shoulder as they make their way to her car. "Are we really going to Rachel's party tonight?"

Quinn chuckles. "Yes. Rachel and I are finally on okay terms with each other and we should make an appearance. It'll only be the Glee kids though so you know nothing too crazy is going to happen."

She unlocks her car and goes to throw her duffle bag in the back before getting in the driver's seat. By the time she gets in, Sam is already buckled up and ready to go.

"Well, hey, you never know," He says with a grin. "Especially if there's alcohol."

"Speaking of which, we are totally finding a DD. If I'm going to survive this thing, I'm going to need to have a few drinks in me."

_[\\]_

By the time Sam and Quinn arrive at the party, a few of the glee kids are already wasted. Rachel happens to be one of them as she throws her arms around Quinn and slurs drunkenly, "You maaade it."

"Yes, we did," The blonde says in an even voice. "Are you okay?"

"Yeeessss. Drink!" She hands her a wine cooler.

Without hesitation, Quinn takes a big gulp of it. "This is actually pretty good."

"I know, riiight? I always thought people were lying when they said alcohol tasted good. Wine coolers are the exception," She says with a dopey grin. "Drunk karaoke anyone?"

Mercedes and Tina cheer as Kurt and Blaine get up to sing a Madonna song together. Rachel finds her way back over to Finn as she lays her head on his shoulder for a while.

"Well, this is interesting," Sam says observantly.

Quinn chuckles. "Just drink." She gives him the rest of her wine cooler as she goes to get another one.

Santana watches as the two of them interact, a little sting of jealousy coursing through her. It didn't have so much to do with Sam as it did with the way he looked at her so hopelessly. No one had ever looked at her like that. Not that she wanted them to… She didn't. And anyway, that was beside the point.

Puck's sloppy kisses against her neck start to annoy her as she pushes him off. When she sees Quinn leave Sam for a moment, she makes her way over to him.

"Hey," She says.

He gives her a slight nod, "Hey. Are you feeling it yet?"

"A little bit. Not as much as him." She gestures toward Puck sitting on the couch, looking like he's about to pass out.

Sam laughs lightly at the sight of him. "I would've pegged him as one that's able to hold his liquor."

"Oh, he does. He's had like twelve."

"That explains it," He says with a grin.

Quinn makes her way over to them carrying a few drinks. "Santana," She mumbles with an edge in her voice. "So, I got us these," She says holding up the bottles to Sam. "They made me take a few shots of something too, I'm not sure what it was."

The Latina throws back her head and lets out a loud laugh causing Quinn to momentarily forget her anger. She waits for Santana to calm down before she finally explains, "Q, You're going to be on the floor in no time."

The blonde raises an eyebrow, a hint of worry apparent in her features. "What is it?"

Santana shrugs. "No one knows. Rachel mixed together a lot of her dads' stuff but it did do _that_ to Puck." She points over to the comatose boy on the couch.

Her eyes widen in fear. "Oh my god, I'm going to die."

"I'm sure you'll be fine," The brunette says with a chuckle, almost having forgotten that the girl wasn't without her charms. A hint of sincerity in her voice as she adds, "Sam will take care of you."

The slightly panicked look in her eyes causes the boy to take her in his arms. "You'll be okay, babe."

Wrinkling her features up, the Latina adds, "You guys are making me want to vomit."

The other glee kids do a few more rounds of karaoke after Kurt and Blaine finish belting their song. The alcohol seems to make them all worse singers by far but the dance moves that accompany the off key singing more than makes up for it. When it's Rachel's turn, she hops up to the mic, but instead of singing another song, decides to make an announcement.

"Alright everrrryone! How about a game of spin the bottle/seven minutes in heaven?" She says as she fist pumps the air for the group of kids seated on her basement floor.

They all drunkenly scream in approval except for Santana who seems less than thrilled. "This is like fucking middle school all over again."

Nevertheless, the majority wins.

All of them gather in a circle, except for Tina and Mike who have wandered else where-no doubt to play the game on their own. Blaine spins the bottle first and ends up landing on Rachel much to Kurt's disappointment. The two of them disappear into the closet for a while.

"Who's supposed to be keeping time?" Kurt speaks up, a bit worriedly.

"They're both drunk enough, I'm sure we could interrupt whenever," Santana says reasonably.

The other kids sit in silence, trying to hear whether or not the two are really getting their mack on or if they're just lamely sitting in the closet. Kurt seems to have had enough of it thirty seconds later.

"Feels like seven minutes to me!" He exclaims as he knocks on the door and shouts, "Time's up!"

When Blaine and Rachel finally emerge from the closet, their hair looks a little bit disheveled but it doesn't seem to have progressed much further than that. Now that they're back in the room with everyone else, Kurt seems to breathe a bit more easily. Before the next spin, Artie and Brittany excuse themselves from the game, saying that they need some fresh air. Santana rolls her eyes as she watches them leave.

"I'll go next," The Latina volunteers, welcoming any sort of distraction.

She spins the bottle and watches as it makes its way around the circle a couple of times before finally landing on the blonde… girl.

_Crap._

Before she knows it, both of them are being coerced into the closet. She isn't sure one of them will leave alive and so she tries to protest and demand a re-spin. Quinn doesn't seem as bothered by the whole thing as she's pretty much realized she's too drunk to put up much of a fight; the warmth of the alcohol pulsing through her body. Once they're inside, the blonde sits down on the floor as Santana stands there, arms folded. Sighing defeatedly, the girl finally takes a seat on the carpet as well.

"Ironic. I thought I would be more upset about this than you are," The blonde says lightly.

"Don't worry. You can stay on your side of the closet and I'll stay on mine."

"Wow, I never thought you'd be the one to say that… Afraid I might try something?" Quinn says as she chuckles. "Trust me, you are the last person I want to be in here with… Sam told me what you did."

Santana tries to shrug it off. "He said no."

"Not the point," She sighs.

A few more moments pass before a funny thought seems to occur to the blonde as she bursts out into laughter. Santana looks over at her a bit worriedly.

"Are you getting ready to kill me or something? Cause I should warn you—"

"No…" They sit there in silence for a little while longer, the minutes feeling like hours. "What's the real reason you hate me, San?" Her eyes meet the brunette's, trying to search her for an answer. The alcohol making her a little bit braver and slower all at once.

The Latina hears the sincerity behind the words and sighs. "Let's just kiss and get it over with."

"I thought you wanted to stay on your side of the closet?" Quinn says a bit confused.

"I'm bored," The brunette says dismissively, clearly tiring of their conversation.

"Well, it can't be worse than talking to you," The blonde huffs.

Santana closes the distance between them and places a chaste kiss on her lips. Their skin grazes for only a moment but it's a sensation that sends a confusing shock through both of their systems. The brunette watches as the blonde keeps her eyes closed while she slowly inhales. When she opens her eyes, she seems just as confused as the Latina.

Quinn starts to say something. "We could—"

As if in understanding, Santana presses her lips against hers for another chaste kiss, this one longer than the first. When they pull away this time, they both see a certain hunger in the other's eyes.

The blonde starts again. "Well, it's not like we have anything to talk about anyway."

"Nope," Santana agrees.

This time it's Quinn who initiates the kiss as she slides one of her hands along the side of Santana's neck. Her tongue moves a bit more slowly than usual, as her thoughts seem cloudy and distorted. She licks along the bottom of Santana's lip but before the girl has a chance to move her tongue any further, a harsh knock interrupts them.

"It's time!" Sam shouts worriedly.

The blonde quickly removes her hand from the girl's neck and shakes her head as if trying to pull herself together. Santana wipes her lips with her sleeve and straightens out her hair. Quinn looks at her a bit incredulously as she tries to stand but falters slightly.

"You act like I have cooties," She says, a slight hint of annoyance creeping into her voice.

"It hasn't been proven that you don't," The Latina says evenly.

Quinn makes a frustrated noise as she looks like she might be rethinking about killing her but at the last moment she steadies herself and pushes through the closet door, falling into Sam's arms.

"Oh, thank god!" The boy exclaims, sighing with relief. "I wasn't sure you'd make it out alive."

"Oh, please. I could totally take her," The blonde says with a smirk.

"Ya wish," Santana says as she breezes past them.

She spots Brittany and Artie in the corner of the room and makes her way over to them.

"I can't believe you keep abandoning me," The Latina says to Brittany bitterly. "Move it, wheels."

Artie seems to get the not so subtle hint as he excuses himself and rejoins the circle next to Mercedes.

"Sorry, I wanted to make out with Artie for a little while."

"Yeah… But then earlier in the night, you were busy dancing for him, you know? When I'm with a guy, I always make time for you." The brunette sighs discontentedly as the blonde gives her arm a soft squeeze.

"So, what did I miss?"

Santana looks across the room and sees Quinn wrapped around Sam. She watches as she pulls him down into a kiss and the Latina feels another pang of jealousy, one much different than the one before. One she doesn't want to overanalyze so she quickly turns her attention back to her friend.

"I have another name for our diary."

"Oh my gosh! You actually did the dirty with Sam?" Brittany's eyes widen incredulously.

"No, with Q. It was just a kiss though."

Brittany's blue eyes sparkle curiously. "I have always wondered what it would be like to kiss her… She's just so _pretty_. Like one of those rare butterflies you see at the butterfly house but you're too afraid to touch because you think you might kill it. Then a guy comes along and tells you that you can touch it without killing it so you do, but then it dies and you get banned from the butterfly house for life."

The brunette wrinkles up her face in confusion. "…How does that relate to, Q?"

"I thought we were talking about butterflies?"

"You are the same person whether you're drunk or sober," She says with a light laugh.

"So, what would you rate Q?"

"Oh, nothing to write home about," Santana says casually, not meeting her friend's gaze.

Quinn looks over at Brittany and Santana as she sits in the circle next to her boyfriend. The alcohol has started making her feel sleepy but she's afraid to close her eyes because of what she might see. She blinks and slaps the side of her face lightly until she feels awake again. Trying to keep her mind in the right place, she gives Sam another small kiss. Pulling away, she scrunches her features up, dissatisfied by the lingering taste of a certain girl's chapstick.


	2. It's a Barbie World

Santana and Brittany are hanging out on one of the outside tables near the front of the school when they see Quinn pull up into the school parking lot. She stumbles out of her car wearing Ray Bans; her hair and clothing looking slightly disheveled. As she passes the girls, they hear her mutter bitterly to herself.

"Fuck the sun."

Brittany's eyes widen as she turns her attention back to her friend sitting next to her. "Maybe you were right about the whole vampire thing."

"Maybe so," She says with a devilish grin. "With that hangover, she's just lucky we don't have cheerleading practice today… Though I'm sure hearing Jewish Chewbacca's screeching will be just as painful." She shakes her head at the memory of the night before. "I still can't believe we attended a Rachel Berry party, Glee Club is turning us into nerds."

"I liked it! I made six whole dollars just by doing stripper dance moves," Britt says excitedly. "I'm going to buy _so_ many tater tots at lunch today."

"One: if you ever tell anyone you learned those moves by watching Richard Simmons work out videos, our friendship is over. Two: You better make sure Coach doesn't see you eating those things," The Latina remarks as she works on filing her nails.

"Hey there, ladies," Puck says smoothly as he approaches them. He leans in to give Santana a kiss on the cheek but is met by her hand.

"Ya best not kiss me with that stank breath."

"What? I brushed my teeth!" He exclaims in protest.

"Just sayin', you should probably carry around a permanent supply of breath mints if you ever plan on getting that drunk again."

"Okay, mom," The boy says sarcastically. "Now can I kiss you?"

She smiles, enjoying the power she has over him. "On the cheek."

He gives her a quick peck before heading off. "I'll see you later tonight?"

Santana looks over at Brittany, a silent question in her eyes.

"I have a thing with Artie," She responds quietly.

"Yeah, I'll see you tonight," The Latina calls out to him.

Puck smiles satisfied with her answer. The girls wait for him to disappear inside the school before the blonde pulls out a tiny book from her backpack. Santana recognizes it immediately.

"By the way, I need you to hold onto this for now," Brittany says seriously.

"Why? What's going on?"

"I told my therapist about Lord Tubbington reading my diary and she said that it's all in my mind because cats can't read, which is obviously untrue because how else could he keep track of his calorie intake? Anyway, she said this would be a good trust building exercise for us."

"Wait, you have a therapist?" Santana asks incredulously. "How did I not know about this?"

"You're not That's So Raven, San. It's okay," She says gently patting her arm.

"Actually her name was just Raven. 'That's So' was part of the title."

"No, I'm pretty sure you're wrong," The blonde says as she laughs lightly at Santana's obvious mistake.

_[\\]_

On the way to third period, Santana notices Quinn standing by her locker, her head resting against the locker next to hers. The blonde's eyes look bloodshot as she closes them every second or so as if contemplating sleep. This was just too good to pass up.

"Hey Fabray!" The Latina says loudly.

The blonde glares at her in irritation. "Why are you shouting?" She moans as she feels her head pounding, her eyes drawn to the Latina's lips. "I'm never drinking alcohol ever again."

"Famous last words."

"Yeah… Well, this time I mean it, " Quinn says with a groan.

Santana can feel her eyes on her lips. "So how much do you remember about last night?"

"Not much really," The blonde quickly snaps her attention back to her locker and busies herself with her schoolbooks.

The brunette smirks seeing the faint blush she tries to hide. "You haven't asked Trouty Mouth to fill you in?"

"I haven't really had a chance to talk to him yet," She says, her voice wavering.

"You know, if you ever want to satisfy your curiosity, I'd be willing to let you up on this," Santana says as she gestures to her body.

"What?" The girl now turns to look at her, flabbergasted. "You mean like sleeping with you? I'm not really into girls like that."

"Oh, so you've tried it?" The Latina asks evenly.

The blush on Quinn's face deepens. "Not exactly—"

Santana shrugs nonchalantly. "Britt and I hook up sometimes, it's no big deal. It's not like you have to label it."

"Wait, you and Brittany are hooking up?" Her blush subsides, as she seems more shocked now than anything.

The Latina nods matter-of-factly. "Occasionally… When she's not busy with Artie… Actually, we have your middle school sleepovers to thank for that."

The blonde's mouth opens in horror as she whispers, "You guys hooked up while I was in the room?"

Santana rolls her eyes, not seeing the big deal. "Just kissing and stuff. You were sleeping. Obviously it didn't scar you."

"Actually, I'm feeling pretty scarred right now," She says as she returns her attention to her locker.

"Alls I'm saying is that you seemed pretty into our kiss last night, part of that probably due to the fact that froggy lips don't taste as good as they sound, which really, don't sound good at all unless you happen to be a Frenchman with a very specific fetish… So we could take it further if you want. It's not like we'd have to tell anyone," The brunette reasons.

"You acted like I had cooties!" Quinn says defensively.

"I cover my tracks. Force of habit."

As if finally allowing herself to process this information, she turns to Santana and finishes with, "So, just to make sure I have this right: within the last 24 hours, you've propositioned both me and my boyfriend for sex?"

The Latina responds nonchalantly, "If I don't get my O-face on at least once every three days, my doctor says I'm going to shrivel up and die. Look, whether or not we like it, you and I are the two hottest bitches in this school… So, it's not like it wouldn't be kinda hot."

Quinn guffaws, "Except for the fact that we hate each other."

"You've obviously never had hate sex. In fact, the only sex you've ever had was drunken Puckerman sex, which let's face it, isn't anything to brag about. Maybe you just need to let loose for once…" Then with a slight look. "Sorry, twice. Only this time you wouldn't have to worry about me putting a little bun in your oven." Santana says as she reaches over and pats Quinn's stomach for emphasis.

The blonde quickly removes her hand from her stomach and glares at her. "It will be a cold day in hell before I ever sleep with you."

Santana quirks an eyebrow at her, enjoying the sight of a flustered Quinn. "According to Dante Alighieri, hell _is_ cold but I guess it just depends on what you want to believe." When Quinn looks at her slightly surprised, she finishes with, "What? Just because I don't pay attention in class all the time doesn't mean I'm an idiot… Later, Barbie." Then with a slight smirk, "Have fun with Ken."

As Santana walks away, Quinn feels Sam's arms wrap around her as he pulls her into a concerned hug.

"How are you feeling?"

She sighs softly to herself, not able to take her eyes off the Latina as she makes her way down the hall.

"Confused," She answers honestly. When she turns around, she plants a tiny kiss on his cheek.

"Did Santana say something?" He asks, sensing her uneasiness.

"Nothing worth repeating," Quinn answers with a slight shake of her head.

Even if she wasn't prepared to take her up on her offer, she still found it somewhat flattering. That wasn't weird, was it? After all, last year she had ranked Santana #2 on her Glist (after herself of course), which was a decision she stood by, as long as you didn't take into account personality and obvious character flaws. Santana was hot. But just because she might've enjoyed a kiss with her, didn't mean she was ready to hop into her bed. Girls kissed all the time, if only to satisfy their curiosity. She made a mental note to convince herself she was satisfied.

The Latina makes her way to her locker; putting away her schoolbooks and the diary that Brittany had given her earlier. It was something that they had started their last day of middle school as a way to celebrate making it to high school together. Knowing that they were prepared to sleep with a bunch of different guys to maintain their popularity, they thought it might be fun to rank them. It's not like the guys didn't do the same thing, they just didn't write it down.

Santana sighs as she looks at its worn binding. She wonders if perhaps the whole thing isn't a bit childish but having come so far it seems a shame not to go ahead and finish it. Between the two of them, they'd managed to shag every guy on the football team except for Sam, and that was because he was the new kid. Besides, it was less about the diary and more about the fact that she wanted to get back at Q for stealing her spotlight once again, like she had done throughout middle school all the way up until last year. After Quinn had been forced to quit Cheerios, Santana had been head cheerleader and now that she finally knew what it was like to be on top, she wasn't ready to go down without a fight.

_Quinn Fabray, you better watch your back. There's a new HBIC at McKinley._

So what if they had kissed? It had been interesting and given the chance, she might do it again. That didn't mean that it meant anything. The only girl Santana had slept with was Brittany. The thought of hooking up with other girls hadn't really crossed her mind, it's not like there were an abundance of options. Quinn was a niece piece of ass though; she knew that much from consistently having to look up her skirt for two years. Being a base wasn't all bad. Still, whether or not they hooked up, this was going to be Santana's year. After all, Barbies came in different shapes and sizes these days. Bless the Minaj.

When Santana wakes up the next morning, a brilliant plan forms in her mind. A good night's sleep always did wonders for the scheming part of her pain. As she speed walks through the hallways of McKinley, she searches for Brittany amongst the flurry of students. She finally spots her by Artie's locker, where the two are caught up in a conversation.

"Brittany, I am an evil genius," Santana exclaims as she sidles up to her, reluctantly addressing Artie afterward. "Hola, Boy Cripple."

"Santana, that's really offensive," Artie protests timidly.

"So is your entire wardrobe of grandpa sweaters," She fires back.

Brittany ignores their bickering and addresses Santana, "I know you are. I'm pretty sure the Disney character Ursula is based off of you."

Santana scrunches her features up. "What? Why the fat, ugly one?"

The blonde shrugs nonchalantly. "I was just naming the one that wears the most eyeliner and has the best evil laugh."

Artie chuckles to himself but stops when he feels Santana's death stare. "Brittany, I'll see you at lunch?"

"Of course. I would never miss lunch," She says with an absent-minded smile.

He gives a slight wave as he takes off down the hallway.

"Okay, so I know how to get Sam," Santana states with a twinkle in her eye.

"Ohh, do tell."

"What's the most important thing in the world to Quinn?"

"Popularity," The blonde answers immediately.

"Exactly," Santana agrees with a head nod.

Brittany claps to herself and smiles. "I like this game."

"Which means the main reason she's dating Lemon Head is because he's the quarterback. Just the other day, she said they weren't exclusive which means she's not completely into him. If he isn't top jock, he'll go from hero to zero in no time."

The blonde shakes her head. "So, what are we supposed to do about it?"

"All we have to do is get Finn reinstated as quarterback and Quinn will instantly be less attracted to Trouty Mouth and more attracted to Flubber. Getting Berry out of the picture shouldn't be too hard since he's still into Q, and I'm pretty sure he hasn't been honest with her about losing his V card. In his case, the V not only standing for virgin, but where he'd rank in the alphabet if it were a grading scale of sexiness."

Brittany smiles slightly, "So devious."

She hooks her arm around her friend's as they walk down the hall together. "Can't argue with that one."

_[\\]_

The night of the McKinley High football game against Markston Academy had come and there was an excitement buzzing in the air, especially for Santana who was ready to put her plan into action. Leaning against the Markston school bus, she waits for a familiar brown-headed boy to emerge from the bus. When he does, he breaks out into a big grin.

"Sannie Lopez," He says with a southern drawl that Santana finds both obnoxious and slightly alluring.

"Hey, Grant," She shoots him a flirtatious smile.

The boy leans over her against the bus, returning the smile. "Have you come to wish me good luck?"

"You know you don't need it. The Cheerios have a better chance of kicking your ass than the McKinley Titans."

He chuckles, "I've missed you." He goes to brush her hair behind her ear when she slaps his hand away.

She straightens herself up and speaks to him in an even voice, "Okay, now that we're done with the pleasantries… I need a favor."

The boy frowns, "You're so mean. I came all this way to—"

"I'm going to assume you never told Melissa about us hooking up, right?" When he doesn't respond, the girl pulls out a stack of papers from behind.

He shakes his head and sighs, "What's this?"

"A copy of the Titans' playbook."

Grant seems confused, "We don't need that to beat y'all."

"No, I know." Then with slight hesitation, she explains, "I need you to knock the QB on his ass though. Nothing too serious but enough to get him benched for a little while."

He raises his eyebrow. "You're always up to no good, ain't ya?"

She shoots him a devious grin, "You can count on it." Then adding in a serious tone, "Remember, no snapped necks or anything. I'm not looking to end up behind bars." She pushes the papers into his hands and makes her exit.

The boy calls out after her, "If the law had any sense, they woulda put you away years ago, Lopez!"

The Latina turns around to give him the middle finger. "Watch your back, cowboy!"

As Santana joins the Cheerios on the sidelines, she notices a small group of girls huddled around Quinn and goes to join them.

"What's going on?" She asks, interested.

The blonde clenches her jaw, answering a bit reluctantly, "Sam gave me a promise ring." She holds her hand up and wiggles her fingers slightly to show it off.

Santana chuckles a bit morbidly, "How quaint… I thought you two weren't even exclusive yet?"

"Well, I guess we are now… He's sweet."

She shakes her head, "Whatever you say, Fabray."

Sensing her disapproval, Quinn adds, "I wasn't going to accept it at first but he's a good guy, and it's not like it's an engagement ring. He said it means that he'll respect what I want and that he promises not to pressure me for sex."

"Every guy says that," The brunette states simply.

"Yeah, well apparently, it's not only the guys I have to look out for," The blonde says as she quirks an eyebrow at her.

"This isn't Alien vs Predator, Q. I'm not going to corner you in a dark alleyway and start making out with you." Even though Santana almost leaves it at that, messing with Quinn is just too much fun so she adds, "Unless you're into that?"

The blonde scrunches her features up. "Why are you so irritating all the time?"

"Why do you keep thinking about us hooking up? I thought you weren't into that."

Her mouth drops open in protest. "I'm not!"

"Well… Then drop it."

Quinn sighs. "If we weren't at a football game right now, I'd totally slap you."

"Save it for the bedroom, babe," Santana remarks nonchalantly as she stretches out her thighs. As she comes up from the stretch, she's met by the blonde's cup of water as she empties its contents on her.

"Oh, darn. Sorry," The blonde says in unapologetic tone that makes the Latina consider wringing her neck.

_This bitch._

Before they have a chance to get into it any further, Sue Sylvester throws a towel at Santana. "Walk it off, Lopez! The game is about to start."

She curses under her breath in Spanish but does as she's told. Water was her straightened hair's kryptonite and she sulks knowing that her hairdo is ruined for the night. She takes her mind off of it by reminding herself that she would make the girl pay soon enough.

The whistle sounds and the kickoff is underway. It doesn't take long for them to figure out that it will be another loss for the Titans but Sue still has the Cheerios pulling out all their stunts to keep them sharp. After the Cougars score two consecutive touchdowns, Santana catches a glimpse from Grant that lets her know he's ready to wrap this up. A small sense of panic shoots through her. The play begins and it only takes a few seconds before Sam is knocked on his ass.

Coach Beiste runs onto the field and seems to have a conversation with the boy before dragging him off. Quinn runs after them despite Sue's protestations. When Santana sees that the boy doesn't seem too badly injured she releases a breath she didn't know she was holding. The blonde girl rejoins them a few minutes later.

"Dislocated shoulder," She states simply.

"How bad?" Santana asks, concern apparent in her voice, much to Quinn's surprise.

"He needs to go to the ER. Finn will have to take over as quarterback." The Latina hangs her head, feeling a bit ashamed of her actions. Maybe she'd gone too far this time. The blonde sees the troubled expression on her face and reaches out to touch her shoulder, the tender gesture making Santana want to recoil with guilt. "It's nice of you to care."

"Yeah," The brunette responds, not meeting her eyes.

Quinn excuses herself from the game so she can accompany Sam to the emergency room. A sheepish looking Finn approaches Santana on the sidelines as he stares after them with wide eyes.

"I can't believe this is happening," He says with disbelief. Santana swallows, her mouth feeling dry. When she doesn't respond, he continues, "I can't help but feel like it's my fault."

She looks at him with a confused expression, "What makes you say that?"

He hangs his head, admitting in a soft voice, "I changed the play at the last second."

The brunette pauses. "Yeah, but it was still in the playbook, right?"

Now it's Finn's turn to look confused. "No… It was a play we used last year when Tanaka was coach… We ran it in practice though and I thought Sam had it down… But maybe not."

He walks away as the referee signals that the game is about to resume. Santana feels a weird sensation leave her body as he does. It hadn't been her fault after all. She lets the information sink in, relief flooding her body. Despite all her mean-spirited antics, she begins to question herself, wondering if maybe she really does have a heart.

_...But eh, probably not._


	3. Heating Up

It had been a couple weeks since Sam's injury and the boy was still on the road to recovery. He had been resting for the most part, as were the doctor's orders, and although it might've been helping his arm, it didn't do much for his social life. Without football practice, he hadn't been able to spend as much time with Quinn as he would've liked, which made him that much more anxious to get better. So when Quinn told him about the kegger at one of the cheerleader's houses, he agreed to it wholeheartedly.

As they arrive, Sam notices a bunch of his buddies from the football team are already there.

Quinn looks at him as they pull up. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

He turns to her with a charming smile. "Yeah, I just want to have some fun. I miss hanging out with you."

She returns the smile as she steps out of the car, "We'll have fun tonight."

"Quinnie!" Brittany calls out to her. The girl jumps out of the back of a jeep filled with a bunch of other jocks and Cheerios.

"Hey Britt!" She pulls the girl into a tiny hug. "Is Artie here?"

She shakes her head a bit sadly, "He said it wasn't his scene. Berry's here though."

As if processing the information Quinn asks skeptically, "Rachel's here?"

Brittany nods. "Cause of Finn, ya know?"

Finally putting it together the blonde nods slightly. "Right."

"Hey, Britt. You look nice," Sam says warmly.

"Thanks. I wasn't sure what to wear so I just went with the dress that's easiest to take off…" Quinn and Sam give her a look but she doesn't seem to notice as she continues, "That way if I get stuck on anything, I can just take it off without having to wait for someone to come rescue me… I think I finally understand feminism."

Sam's eyes widen, "That's actually a really good idea."

Quinn shakes her head, "So, we should head inside, yeah?"

The three of them enter the house together. Loud dance music fills the air as the smell of beer and sweat quickly permeates their clothing.

Santana appears from the crowd and pulls Brittany into a hug, addressing Quinn and Sam afterward. "Hey, Q. Fish Lips."

"Hey, Santana…" Quinn gives her a once over, noticing the way her dress emphasizes her… curves. "Uh, what are you wearing?"

"What are _you_ wearing?" The Latina asks raising an eyebrow at the blonde's chaste dress. "Going to Sunday school, are we?"

The blonde clenches her jaw. "There's nothing wrong with a little modesty. Some things are better left to the imagination."

Santana shrugs. "Drink a little beer. You might feel differently."

"Actually I don't really like—" The blonde begins but the Latina ignores her and hands her a cup anyway. "Thanks." She finishes flatly.

"When you're done being Miss Congeniality come dance with us." She gestures toward the makeshift dance floor in the living room as Brittany drags her toward it.

Quinn nods as she watches them go.

She feels Sam's hand on her shoulder as he kisses the side of her head. "I think I'm going to find a place to hang out on the deck… Don't want to risk further injury," He says as he holds up his sling. "Also, I'm pretty sure that's where most of the guys will be hanging out anyway."

The blonde nods, "Sure, sounds good."

As he's leaving, he sees Finn making his way over to them. Suddenly seeming a bit concerned he adds, "But I'll stay with you if you want."

She smiles, "I'll be fine. I'll come find you after I say hi to everyone."

"Hey guys," He greets them with a small smile.

"Hey, Finn," Sam says with a wave.

"Evans!" Someone calls out from the deck.

"See you in a few, babe," The blonde boy says excusing himself.

Now that he's gone, Finn focuses his attention on the girl in front of him. "I didn't think you'd make it here because of Sam. How is he doing?"

"He's better. Starting physical therapy soon."

"Good. I'm glad he's getting better." Then gesturing to the party around them. "Remember when we used to go to these things together?"

She nods and replies teasingly, "I remember alright. Your drunk headstands were always the highlight of my night."

He grins at her. "Me? What about you and the drunk little chicken dance you do?"

She bites her tongue, blushing a little. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Finn, I told you—" Rachel appears next to him, stopping suddenly when she sees the blonde. "Quinn."

"Rachel." She replies evenly.

The brunette looks around. "Where's Sam?"

"He's out on the deck."

She spots him now and nods. "How is he doing?"

"Better… Yeah, a lot better."

"That's good."

Observing the awkward silence between the three of them, Quinn quickly excuses herself. "Well, I'll see you guys around. Bye."

The blonde works her way around the room, saying hi to a few other cheerleaders before she finds herself near the dance floor where Santana and Brittany drag her into their circle. She laughs as Brittany dances like a crazy fool; she always turned into a futuristic sort of dancing machine whenever she had the least bit of alcohol. Knowing that she can't keep up with her, she turns toward Santana who seems to be enjoying watching Brittany's moves just as much as she is. The girls share a laugh before Santana offers her hand so that she can twirl her around. When she takes it, something shoots through Quinn that she can't quite place.

It's not like it isn't anything that they haven't done a hundred times before but for some reason, this time it feels different to her. This time there's a flutter in her stomach every time the brunette gets a little too close. Quinn can feel her hazel eyes traveling her body, stopping in places where they shouldn't. Trying to snap herself out of it, she focuses on the music, making sure to put a good amount of space between them. Santana gives her a weird look but she pretends not to notice. One of the jocks behind the Latina accidentally pushes her forward, sending her into Quinn, and despite the fact that the contact doesn't last more than a second; Quinn suddenly feels the need to be very drunk.

_[\\Three beers later…]_

_This was such a good idea._

She sways to the music now, not giving any fucks as to whom she's dancing with. Brittany tries to steady her by keeping a hand on her shoulder but Quinn seems determined to face plant on the ground. She falls forward but the Latina swoops in to catch her before she can make contact. The warmth of the girl's skin makes her head feel dizzier than it already does. She sighs in exasperation. So like Santana, always being a total bitch, and then doing something redeemable right when she's convinced she could hate her. As she tries to stand upright, her body refuses to cooperate, so she stays there clinging to her. She looks into the girl's brown eyes and realizes that they're actually very pretty. She's about to say something to that effect but upon opening her mouth, she feels her body rebelling against her, and it just comes out as a moan.

"God, Q, what have you done?" The brunette knits her eyebrows worriedly.

The blonde doesn't process the question because her attention has shifted from the girl's eyes to her lips. She remembers how they felt pressed against hers. She remembers how she was interrupted before she had a chance to taste her… Suddenly she's overcome with an overwhelming desperation to finish what she started. Firmly, she plants both hands on the side of her neck. Santana seems a bit confused by the gesture, but before Quinn can move herself any further, it happens. She can feel the bile rising in her stomach. She quickly removes herself from the girl and runs to the bathroom, Santana trailing behind her.

"Quinn, are you okay?"

By the time the brunette makes it to the bathroom, Quinn is already hanging over the toilet, getting sick.

"Go away," The girl groans miserably.

Santana enters anyway and sits down next to her, gently rubbing her back.

The blonde wears a pained expression. "That's making it worse."

"Sorry," The brunette says quickly as she removes her hand. "Are you becoming a raging alcoholic now or something?"

The girl shakes her head but doesn't meet her eyes. "I wasn't even going to drink tonight. I just wanted to stop thinking so much." She can tell she's going to get sick again so she leans back over the toilet, as she does, the brunette brushes her hair into a makeshift ponytail for her. "You don't have to do this."

Santana shrugs. "It's nothing we haven't done before. We _are_ friends… Sometimes."

The blonde throws up again and afterward tries to regain her composure somewhat but ends up failing. Her voice is soft when she finally responds, "I just don't know what I want anymore."

The Latina senses the honesty in her words and tries her best to comfort her. "Trust me, Q. Once you sober up, you'll feel a lot better. Things will seem easier."

Quinn doesn't seem too convinced. "I doubt it," She says a bit sadly.

With the blonde's hair pulled back, Santana notices her neck. Not that she hadn't seen it before, she just hadn't _noticed_ it. Without thinking, she runs her thumb from its nape to the base, causing the girl to shiver under her touch. The blonde gives her a sideways glance as the brunette bites the inside of her cheek.

"Sorry." Suddenly, Santana finds herself wishing that she had never kissed the girl at Berry's party, that she had never teased her about hooking up; but above all, she found herself wishing that she had never danced with her tonight. It was all too much. She just couldn't look at the blonde the same way anymore, she couldn't help but think what it would be like to—"Just fucking stop it," She doesn't realize she's said the words out loud until she hears Quinn's soft, husky voice.

"San?"

She clears her throat, suddenly wanting to be anywhere else but in the same room as her. "I'm gonna go. Feel better, okay?"

The blonde nods and goes back to resting her head against the side of the toilet as Santana leaves.

The Latina feels the color in her face as she leaves the bathroom.

_Come on, Lopez. You need to nut up. And you need to follow through with your plan._

Sure, she had gone soft after the whole shoulder incident but now it was time for her to put her game face back on. Once she had Sam, she was sure all of this would go away. She just needed to focus. As she makes her way through the crowded house, she searches for the familiar brunette.

"Hey, Berry!" She calls out.

"Hi, Santana, what's—"

"Finn and I hooked up last year."

Rachel pauses involuntarily. "What?"

She stands there, letting the information process before finally catching Finn's gaze and running out of the party. Finn seems to connect the dots when he sees Santana standing there. She shrugs nonchalantly and strolls over to Sam. They watch as Finn and Rachel argue on the porch, still visible to everyone inside.

"If I were you, Trouty Mouth, I'd watch your little girlfriend. Now that Finn's top dog again, you have some competition." Rachel storms off now, shoving Finn away. "Not to mention the fact that it looks like Rachel's out of the picture now… Or didn't you notice the way they were looking at each other earlier?"

_[\\]_

Puck makes his way over to Santana's locker, a huge grin plastered on his face.

"What is this?" Puck says waving a book in front of Santana's face.

"It's called a book, you moron."

"No, I know… But not just any book… _A diary_," He says with a devilish grin.

Santana quickly snatches it from his grasp and her eyes widen in horror. "Where did you get this?"

"You left it in the back of my convertible the other night. Don't get me wrong, I was happy with the results. 3rd place is fine by me as long as you and Brittany are the only ones front of me," He wiggles his eyebrows even though Santana is sure he isn't aware of the double entendre.

"You can't tell anyone about this," She says in a serious tone.

"How about this? Threesome: you, me, and Britt. Then we'll pretend like this whole thing never happened," He says with a smirk.

She folds her arms and glares at him. "How about this? Threesome: you, my fist, your face."

"Whoa, whoa. Chill out my sexy little chili pepper." The brunette rolls her eyes disdainfully. "Your dirty secrets are safe with me."

"They better be because if any of this gets out, I won't be as careful as the Jew doctor who circumcised you."

"I love it when you talk dirty."

"A little visual imagery should cure you of that." A pained expression crosses his face as he reflects on her words. "Told ya," She says with a shrug. She places the diary back into her locker, slamming it shut.

The brunette makes her way over to Brittany's locker. "Puck knows about the diary."

"What diary?" The blonde asks in confusion.

"_Our_ diary."

Her mouth falls open. "How?"

"Look, it doesn't matter. I got it back from him and if he tells anyone, he is beyond fucking dead. Don't worry about it."

Brittany nods, "I wonder what my therapist will say about this one… Puck can read, right?"

Santana pauses, "I think so." Her gaze shifts as she notices Sam and Quinn across the hall. "Wonder what's going on in Barbie world..."

_[\\]_

"So I'm beginning to think we should steer clear of anymore high school parties that involve drinking," The blonde boy says teasingly.

Quinn shakes her head, "I'm really sorry. I swear I'm usually not like that."

"Hey, it's okay. I was just teasing. Everyone has their moments… You're cute even when you're shitfaced."

She looks at him in disbelief. "You are seriously deluded."

He gives her an innocent smile. "I always think you're cute."

The couple turns around when they hear Rachel and Finn fighting with each other at the end of the hallway. The tall boy walks away from her angrily while the brunette is left there crying.

"What do you think that's about?" The blonde ponders.

Sam shrugs lightly. "Does it matter?"

"We're in high school. This is probably what people are going to be talking about for the rest of the day."

"Well, unless we give them something else to talk about…" He places a hand on her elbow and brings her into a deep kiss. Quinn returns the kiss, if a bit hesitantly.

When they pull apart, she raises an eyebrow and looks at him questionably. "What was that for?"

"I love you," He says simply.

Quinn feels a pit in her stomach. "I—" The school bell rings. "I have to go to class."

As she makes her way toward their history class, she catches up with Brittany and Santana. "Do either of you know what's going on with Finn and Rachel?"

Santana smirks, "Rachel found out about Finn and I hooking up. Then she ran to Puck for comfort, and we both know how open his arms are whenever it comes to Finn's scorned women."

"I wonder who told her."

"I did," The Latina says evenly.

"Really, Santana? Subtle."

"Must've been the alcohol."

"Yeah, I don't buy that for a second," Quinn says with a sideways look. "You were the one taking care of _me _last night. What's your angle?"

The brunette shrugs. "I don't need an angle. Berry is always walking around with her nose in the air. She needs to get over herself," Then she adds a little bitterly, "Also, if you and Ken wouldn't mind keeping the PDA to a minimum in the hallways, it'd be appreciated. I do try to keep my breakfast down these days."

The blonde sighs, responding casually. "Jealous much?"

The Latina freezes in her tracks, her face feeling very hot all of a sudden. Realizing she's talking about Sam, she tries to recover. "Right. I mean, no… I'm sure the whole celibacy thing will wear him out soon enough." But her remark doesn't carry the same venom that it usually does.

They all take their usual seats, Britt and Santana in the back and Quinn up near the front next to Finn. The class seems to pass slower than usual and as soon as the dismissal bell rings, the brunette boy is on his feet as he runs after Quinn.

"Hey, Quinn."

She startles a bit, not expecting to talk to anyone. "Hi."

"I want to talk to you about something."

She shakes her head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"You don't even know what I'm going to say."

"You're right, I don't, but that doesn't change the fact that the only reason you're talking to me now is because you and Rachel are fighting," She responds evenly.

"We're not fighting. We broke up."

"Look, I'm sure the whole thing with Puck didn't mean anything." When he looks at her questionably she adds, "This _is_ high school."

He nods, understanding. "Whether or not it meant anything is kinda beside the point."

"What's the point then?"

"Seeing you at that party last night kind of made me remember the way things used to be between us. You know, we both come from the same world. Rachel will never be able to fully understand it. We were good together," He says as he admires her hazel eyes.

She laughs a little bitterly. "Were we now?"

"Believe what you want, Quinn, but I never stopped caring about you. Deep down I think you still care about me too."

"I'm with Sam," She says simply.

"When I see you kiss him, you get a far away look in your eye, like you're not really thinking about him."

Quinn feels her face flush, trying not to think about his words. Instead, glaring at him. "You're way out of line."

"Okay, so then prove me wrong. Kiss me."

She pauses now, a bit taken aback. "What?"

"Kiss me."

The blonde shakes her head as she walks away, biting gently on her tongue. "Not gonna happen."

As she walks away, she wonders if maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. What if the kiss would finally give her some answers? Maybe things hadn't felt right with Sam lately because she was holding onto her feelings for Finn. She sighs to herself, being a teenager was too confusing sometimes.

_[\\]_

"Is this some kind of joke?" The blonde huffs as she approaches Finn at his garish Kissing Booth.

"Um, I'm raising money for Glee Club," He says innocently as he points to the sign on the stand.

"I know what you're doing and it's not gonna work," She states as she glares at him.

"You sure about that?"

She nods affirmatively. "Definitely."

Santana approaches them. "What's up with the kissing booth? Aren't they only supposed to have these things at like carnivals with freak shows or something?" She then breaks out into a devilish grin. "Oh wait…"

Finn looks at her stupidly while Quinn interjects. "Ha-ha. Very funny, Santana. _You _would know."

"You guys aren't dating anymore, right? Even though he looks like a retarded Teletubby half the time doesn't mean you have to defend him… Unless there's something you aren't telling everyone?" She quirks an eyebrow at her.

"I'm with Sam," Quinn says with exasperation.

"Yeah, ya keep saying that, but who are you really trying to convince?"

As if on cue, Sam joins them. "What's going on here?"

"Oh, nothing much," Santana says casually. "Q was about to get her mack on with Flubber."

The blonde boy's mouth hangs open a bit. "What?"

Quinn turns to him. "That's not true."

"But it's for Glee Club," The Latina adds.

"Yeah, strictly business," Finn says, feeling left out of the conversation.

Sam looks dumbfounded, shifting his gaze between the three of them.

"Fine!" Quinn finally shouts in frustration as she glares at Santana. "If this is what it's going to take to end all of this, I'll do it."

The Latina smirks triumphantly as the school bell rings.

"After school then?" Finn suggests.

The blonde nods, "Sure." As she walks away, Sam follows her. She spins on her heels when they've separated themselves from the crowd. "You're an idiot."

"What I do?"

Quinn tries to control her anger but she can feel it boiling over. "Finn is trying to get me to kiss him and you just stand there. Is this what you want?"

"Look, I think maybe there's still something going on between you guys. Maybe if you just kiss him, you'll know for sure one way or the other and we can move past it."

"Why would you even think there's something going on between us?"

"Well, Santana said—"

"Santana. Right…" She says as she clenches her jaw. "Well, she isn't in this relationship. It shouldn't matter what other people say. You either trust me or you don't." When the blonde boy pauses a second too long she finishes for him, "Wrong answer." She takes the promise ring off her finger and hands it to him. "Bye, Sam."

_[\\]_

As the last class ends, Santana makes her way into the girl's bathroom to re-apply her make-up. She hears someone sobbing in one of the stalls and mutters under her breath before addressing them.

"Hey, could you not cry so loudly? It's kind of distracting and I'm trying to apply eyeliner."

There's a sniffle before the voice responds. "Fuck off, Santana."

"Q?" She walks over to the stall and knocks on the door. "What's going on?"

"I broke up with Sam," She says softly.

The Latina pauses. "Because of Finn?"

Quinn sighs in exasperation. "Why does everyone immediately think that? _I_ don't even know… You should be happy. You can have him all to yourself now."

"Hey, open up." The brunette taps on the door again.

The blonde blows her nose but finally pushes the stall door open to see Santana standing there. "What do you want?" She says bitterly.

Seeing Quinn like this melts Santana's heart a little bit. She didn't want to see her friend upset over a stupid boy. Conflicting emotions course through her. This is what she had wanted though, wasn't it? Sam was fair game now. She could finally finish that damn diary. For some reason though, the thought of being with Sam didn't excite her anymore. The blonde's mussed up hair and tear streaked face were doing more for her than seeing the boy's shirtless abs. "I'm sorry about, Sam. Really."

The blonde chuckles lightly. "It was never going to last. I just liked the way it felt to be with him. To have someone like me as much as he did. Finn was never very good about that stuff, but it always seems like something keeps bringing us together. That has to mean something, right?" She stands up now and makes her way to the mirror to straighten herself up. "Can I borrow your eyeliner?"

Santana nods and hands it over to her. "Are you still going to meet him?"

She pauses as she watches the girl in the corner of the mirror. "Yeah, not like I have anything to lose… Maybe it will give me some answers." She finishes applying the eyeliner and turns to the girl to give it back to her.

The Latina goes to take it from her but instead runs her fingers along the pulse point of the girl's wrist, down the length of her hand. The slight contact causes Quinn's pulse to quicken. "You know, you don't have to go… You don't have anything to prove…" She ends the gesture by taking the eyeliner from her. Raising her eyebrow suggestively she finishes with, "You could stay here…"

The buzz of the PA system interrupts them. Sue's voice comes on over the intercom. "Santana Lopez, Brittany Pierce, Quinn Fabray: In my office… _now_."


	4. The Problematic 4

_A/N: Thank you guys for taking the time to leave me some reviews! All the follows/favorites are great too! Keeps me writing. You're all awesome. Hope you enjoy this chapter. x_

* * *

Santana, Brittany, and Quinn all sit in Sue Sylvester's office as she stares them down. The trio exchange nervous glances, knowing that this can't be good.

The woman folds her hands in front of her. "Ladies, I want you to take a good look at the girls sitting next to you… And then, I want you to take a mental picture of their faces, even Silicone Valley's over here, which will take more effort to do since your eyes will be inexplicably drawn to the inappropriate amount of cleavage on display," She says as she gestures toward Santana. "And when you've done that, I want you to put those mental pictures in a little scrapbook in the back of your brain labeled '_filthy teenage hedonists_.'"

She holds up a tiny book, its title slightly worn but not unrecognizable: The Smut Diary.

"Who wants to start?" She says as she sets it back down.

"Wait, what is that?" Quinn looks between Brittany and Santana in confusion. Neither of the girls makes eye contact with her so she looks back at Sue.

"This is a diary written by the two flea bags of teenage hormones sitting next to you. It depicts sexual exploits that could only be summarized by reciting the lyrics of a nondescript rap song, or rather, by reading the screenplay of an adult film that has been banned in several countries."

The blonde looks dumbfounded but responds evenly. "Okay, but I didn't have anything to do with it."

Sue Sylvester leans over the desk and peers at her over her glasses. "Listen Mini Me, you're the captain of this team. If something like this happens, you automatically assume partial responsibility. It makes us _all_ look bad… Also, you make a guest appearance around page 28."

"What?" Her mouth drops wide open in horror as she grabs the diary from Sue's desk and turns to the aforementioned page. "Are you fucking kidding me?" She turns to glance at both of the girls before focusing solely on Santana. "A 4? I'm an 8.5 at least. _At least_."

"It was just a joke," Santana says with a wave of her hand. "It was just a dumb kiss, it's not like we really had anything to go off of."

The blonde is livid. "Who in their right mind would give me a 4? I make 6's in my sleep."

Brittany speaks up now. "To be fair, I argued for at least a 5 based solely on your hair because it reminds me of butter and sunshine, which as you know, are my two favorite things."

She grips the arm of the chair, tightening her fist. "Who else knows about this?"

The coach leans back in her chair now. "Well, seeing as I've had it in my possession for about 10 minutes… I'm guessing probably everyone."

The brunette quickly straightens up. "Wait, what? How is that even possible? It was in my locker—"

Sue looks at her evenly. "When was the last time you were at your locker?"

"This morning."

Quinn looks at her incredulously, her rage still apparent. "How do you carry around all your schoolbooks then?"

"I don't. I only go in the morning to pick out the one whose book cover matches my outfit for the day."

The blonde pauses in disbelief. "You use schoolbooks as accessories?"

Santana shrugs. "How is that any different than girls wearing nerd glasses?"

Their coach gestures to Brittany as she responds. "Well, it looks like Blondie over here might not be the only one lacking a few brain cells. Coach Bieste found the football players looking through it and took it from them but it appears they had already made copies."

The Latina screws her face up, her voice dangerous. "Puckerman is _so_ going to die today."

"_You're_ so going to die today," Quinn manages as she is seething at this point. "I cannot believe I got dragged into this because of you and your stupid games! Do you even know what this is going to do to my reputation?" The blonde looks like she's ready to explode when she leaps from her chair and tackles the brunette like a linebacker. They fall into a mess on the ground as Quinn grabs onto her hair and Santana tries to fight her off by kicking and slapping her sides.

Brittany sits in her chair with a shocked expression. "Violence is not the answer," She adds unhelpfully.

"Ladies!" The coach shouts as she stands up from her chair. The girls stop fumbling about on the ground at the sight of her flared nostrils. "As much fun as this is, we have a bigger problem on our hands. Because of this little incident, we've already been getting nonstop calls from parents and the school board. Figgins has informed me that we may lose our funding if we don't turn this thing around. We have two weeks until regionals and unless we manage to reinvent our image and convince everyone that we are not a team comprised solely of sexual deviants, the Cheerios are over. Which brings me to my next point… You three will be in charge of fixing this situation since you're the reason we're all here."

Quinn jumps up in protest. "Coach, there is no way that is going to work. No way. I'll do whatever else you want me to do but I cannot even deal with the sight of _her_ at the moment."

"Sorry, Fabray. It's not personal, it's cheerleading. You're going to suck it up because that is what leaders do, and if you can't handle it, then you can take make your way back to the bottom of the social ladder with your little glee club and the cherub chinned prick who runs it."

The blonde sticks out a pouty lip as she bites down on the inside of her cheek, fighting back tears. "Fine. But just to be clear, I'm only doing this for the Cheerios."

The coach nods. "Fair enough. Pack your bags tonight, ladies. The Titans have an away game tomorrow so we'll be traveling and staying the night with them…" She glances over her glasses at Santana and Brittany. "On a separate bus, in very separate hotel rooms… Oh, and cheer practice in fifteen. You're dismissed."

The girls file out of Sue's office. Quinn's hands are still shaking from the after effects of the ordeal.

"Quinn, I'm sorry." Santana tries but the blonde doesn't hear her, as she's still blind with rage, making a beeline for the auditorium.

As she walks away, Santana and Brittany notice the crowd of people that have gathered to stare at them and whisper amongst each other. "Well, Coach wasn't exaggerating, was she?" The Latina manages, feeling her own rage start to boil over. She marches toward the gymnasium knowing full well that's where she'll find Puckerman.

Feeling left out, Brittany stands there a bit awkwardly for a while before waving shyly at the crowd and then continuing to her locker as if nothing had happened.

Finn sits on the auditorium stage, but gets up when he sees Quinn approaching him.

"Hey, what's going on? I heard them call your name over the—"

He doesn't have time to finish his sentence as the blonde wastes no time in pulling his lips to hers. She quickly deepens the kiss, expertly working her tongue around his, feeling his excitement and confusion when she finally pulls away. His mouth is slightly agape as he quickly brings his hands to cover his erection.

_Eat your heart out, Santana Lopez. Definitely an 8.5… At least._

Finn just stands there in shock as she exits the auditorium wearing a self-satisfied smirk, making her way to the football field for practice.

"Noah Puckerman!" Santana screams when she sees his stupid mohawk amongst a group of guys getting ready to head out to the football field.

The boy's eyes actually go wide with fear at the sound of his name. He tries not to flinch when he sees the Latina approaching him at a rapid rate. In an attempt to protect himself he quickly extends both of his hands in front of him. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," He says trying to calm her down.

It doesn't work however as Santana's fist quickly connects with his shoulder as she stomps on his foot for added effect. He quickly drops to the ground now with a moan. The brunette leans over him to talk directly into his ear. "If ya thinks this is over, you are very _very_ wrong."

With a huff, she walks away from him, ignoring the catcalls and other commentary from the rest of the boys on the team. She does manage to make out one of the voices as he calls after her, "Seriously Lopez? What kind of scoring system is this?"

_God, are all people this touchy? _

After all, it wasn't her fault if a girl's orgasm was something that seemed to elude teenage boys.

_[\\]_

As they make their way to cheer practice, they quickly realize that most of their teammates are ignoring them so the three of them sit on the track away from the group as they do their warm up stretches. A few girls look over at them every once in a while to glare or use their judgy eyes.

"This blows," Santana mutters.

Quinn is huffy when she responds, but doesn't look at the girl when she talks. "I don't see what you're complaining about. I'm in this mess because of you two."

The Latina rolls her eyes. "Before you go throwing yourself a pity party, let me remind you that you are only a footnote in that diary. The whole world knows every detail of our sex lives. I think we have it worse."

"It doesn't bother me that much," Brittany says with a shrug. "So what? We like to have sex. People who say they don't are just lying to themselves, or probably robots."

"Or haven't experienced a real orgasm," Santana says looking at Quinn pointedly.

"Don't even start that again," The blonde says as she shakes her head, still refusing to look at her.

Brittany smiles, watching the two of them. "You know, if you guys play your cards right, I'd be okay with watching. Maybe even—"

"Oh my god!" Quinn screams, covering her ears. "This is not sexual tension, Brittany. This is genuine hate. Also, threesomes sound incredibly awkward… Not to mention the fact that I'd rather set myself on fire than ever touch _her_ again," She finally glares at Santana.

Santana grins, glad to finally be back in familiar territory even if it meant name-calling and suffering her constant death glares. "So many rules. You're not into girls, you're not into threesomes, what _are_ you into exactly?"

The girls look at her expectantly.

"God."

Santana rolls her eyes. "Yeah, that sounds real hot."

The blonde pauses, suddenly sounding serious. "Okay, being serious though, what's wrong with wanting to be in love with someone before jumping into bed with them?"

Santana chuckles lightly. "We're in high school. The love stuff can come later. Don't you just want to experience sex at least once?"

"I _have_ experienced it. It wasn't that special."

"That might've been sex in the technical sense but it wasn't _sex_. Trust me," The brunette says with a sly smile.

"I can't talk about this anymore. This conversation is getting too weird," The blonde says as she shakes her head. "We're supposed to be coming up with ideas to reinvent our image. Not how we can make it worse and have that blow up in our faces too."

They sit in silence for a while before Santana speaks up again, looking to get a rise out of Quinn while she was still acknowledging her existence. "If we do lose our funding, we could probably sell your virginity online for a lot of money. We'd be good for the next two years at least."

The blonde's eyes widen. "Your first idea is to whore me out? Thanks, San. And I'm not a virgin."

"But you are an O virgin. Maybe that's a thing," Brittany adds.

Santana smirks. "Right?"

Quinn just sighs. "So, looks like I'll be doing this by myself. Big surprise."

"Why does Finn keep looking over here?" Santana asks and then a realization shoots through her. "You kissed him, didn't you?"

"Turns out I had something to prove after all," Quinn says with a small smile, enjoying the surprised look on their faces.

Britt returns the smile. "Nice, Q."

"Not nice. He's so gross," The Latina says with a frown.

"And yet you slept with him." Quinn says evenly.

"Why do I feel like that is going to haunt me forever?"

"Cause it definitely is," Brittany says sincerely. "Like that dream I had about RuPaul and that green dinosaur from Toy Story."

The other blonde nods, "And no matter what you think of him, he'll always be my first boyfriend, so I can't help it if he means something to me."

Santana pretends to choke on something, dramatically coughing and wheezing before rolling onto her side. She gasps for air and spasms there until finally closing her eyes and lying completely still. The brunette sits up after a few seconds to catch Quinn's glare but smiles as Brittany sits there laughing.

"Do it again!" She shouts happily.

"Enough!" Sue's voice booms over the megaphone. "We're running five extra laps today because of your little friends over there." She points to Santana, Brittany, and Quinn as the rest of the squad shoots another round of death glares in their direction. "Let's go!"

As they all get on their feet, one of the girls looks traumatized by the prospect of doing extra laps. "You think this is hard? Try being an endangered species: That's hard!"

_[\\]_

After practice, Santana finds Sam waiting for her by the bleachers. He smiles when he sees her and she approaches him a bit hesitantly, unsure of his motives.

"So, about this diary thing…" He begins.

"So…" She says, folding her arms.

He looks at her, raising one of his eyebrows. "Did you really hook up with Brittany?"

The Latina semi nods, shrugging slightly. "I don't see what the big deal is."

"So, you're still into guys and everything?"

She nods more affirmatively this time. "Yeah." She looks around for Quinn and sees her walking to her car.

"Okay, well I know we have the game tomorrow but I was wondering if you wanted to go to Breadstix with me sometime this weekend," The blonde boys offers.

Santana looks at him in confusion. "The whole diary thing doesn't bother you? Cause everyone pretty much thinks I'm a slut now… " Then with an eye roll, "Not that they didn't think that before."

"I mean, at least I know what I'm getting myself into… I used to be a stripper. I don't think I really have the right to judge anyone," He says with a smile.

The Latina returns the smile, suddenly understanding what Quinn was talking about. "Breadstix sounds good."

They bid goodbye to each other and Santana quickly makes her way over to the blonde who's about to get into her car.

"Sam asked me out," The Latina says plainly.

"I don't care what Sam does anymore," Quinn says with a shrug. She stands there with her car door slightly ajar.

The brunette takes the opportunity to place her hand on top of hers; sure that no one can see them as the car door blocks them. "Do you care what_ I _do?"

The blonde runs her tongue along the back of her teeth. "You should be with Sam."

"Quinn—"

When the blonde interrupts, her voice betrays her a bit as her hurt seeps through. "Look, I know why you were hitting on me now. For the diary, right? It makes sense, okay. But I have no interest in becoming another footnote in whatever book you're writing next. So you can just stop."

Santana picks up on it, not sure how to read it exactly. "I already told you that was just a joke... And that's not the reason."

The blonde pauses, not sure she wants the answer to the question she's about to ask, but she asks anyway, "Then what's the reason?"

Suddenly feeling irritated with her, Santana removes her hand as she brushes past her. "You're the know-it-all, Q. You tell me."

_[\\]_

The brunette looks out the bus window as they pass another cornfield. Brittany sits beside her, wrapped in a Snuggie.

"I hate riding the bus," Santana groans miserably.

"That must be the only thing you hate riding," The girl in front of her retorts as a group of girls chuckle.

"Turn around,_ Alex_. Before I rip that weave outcha head," The Latina seethes.

Brittany seems unfazed. "I think bus rides are fun."

The brunette shakes her head, turning her attention back to her friend. "No. They're horribly boring…" She notices Quinn in one of the bus seats a couple rows in front of them as she listens to her iPod and looks out the window, "How long do you think she's going to stay mad at us?"

"She told me she's already forgiven me. She's mostly mad at you," The blonde says with a shrug.

"No way! Why?" Santana asks incredulously.

"Well, you did rate her a 4," Britt says evenly.

This elicits a sneer from the Latina. "God, with all the blonde jokes in the world, you think she'd learn to take one."

The blonde shakes her head. "I can never tell if you guys are about to kill each other or start making out. It's weird."

"Ha. Well, I'm over that," Santana says with a sigh.

"Then why were you asking about her?"

She shrugs. "I was curious."

"Curious cause maybe you're not over that?"

The Latina shoots her a sideways glance. "I have Sam now—Oh my god! I'm starting to sound like her! Shoot me now," She says mournfully.

"If I had a squirt gun, I totally would," Brittany responds with a smile.

They sit in silence for a moment before Santana speaks up again, "What do you suppose Trouty Mouth's lips taste like?"

The blonde seems to think about it for a moment before responding earnestly. "Just imagine drowning in a pool of chapstick."

The Latina nods. "Probably about right. Hopefully he knows how to use them."

Sue Sylvester stands up at the front of the bus. "Okay, in light of recent events, we're going to have assigned roommates for the hotel this time around, so listen up."

Quinn sits up anxiously pulling her ear buds out.

_Please god, anyone but Santana._

"Alex and Sasha. Jamie and Lauren. Brittany and Jackie…"

Brittany wiggles her fingers at the girl near the front.

"Quinn and…"

The blonde's breath catches in her throat.

_Anyone but Santana._

"Erin," The coach finishes. She continues with the list of names but Quinn no longer pays attention.

The blonde sinks back in her seat, breathing easier now but realizing her heart feels a little heavier than it did ten seconds ago. Her eyes open in horror. Had she really wanted her to say Santana?

_No! Of course not. _

That would imply something dangerous, not to mention incredibly stupid on her part. And if Quinn was anything, it wasn't stupid.

_Are you fucking crazy, Fabray? You hate her. You hate her. You hate her. You hate her. _

She repeats the phrase over and over in her mind, too afraid to let it wander anywhere else. She sticks her ear buds back in and loses herself in the music.

[\\]

When they arrive at Bellville High, the Cheerios quickly exit off the bus and head straight to the football field to begin warm ups. The stands are packed with Belleville fans, there are only about five McKinley supporters there and they're all cheer parents. As the girls make their way to their side of the field, three cheerleaders approach them from the opposing side.

"Hey, skanks!" One of the girls shouts as she strides up to them, an obnoxious bow crowning her pigtail.

Santana is the first to turn on her heels. "Madison, how did I know it was you? Was it the annoying sound of your voice or the fact that I could smell your cheap fucking perfume as soon as I stepped off the bus?"

Quinn and Brittany join her as the rest of the Cheerios watch the scene play out in front of them. "Aw, well if it isn't the Unholy Trinity. Cute… So, I've heard about your little diary. It's pretty funny actually." She laughs lightly and the girls beside her join in.

"Why don't you just back off, Madison? This has nothing to do with you," Quinn says evenly.

"Actually it does. See, this skank here…" She gestures toward Brittany. "Slept with Chris. _My_ boyfriend. And that shit has _everything_ to do with me. So why don't you get out of the way Fabray? I hear what they wrote about you isn't exactly flattering so I'm_ sure_ you'll enjoy watching them get their asses handed to them."

Santana lets out a frustrated groan. "Oh my god! That was just a joke! Obviously she isn't a 4! Look at her! She looks like a fucking Disney princess!"

Quinn shoots Santana a weird look but quickly returns her attention back to Madison. "Look, Madison, just because you went to the same middle school as we did doesn't mean that you know us. At the end of the day, I'm always going to side with my team. Brittany didn't do anything wrong. You and Chris weren't even together then."

"Skanks are people too," Brittany adds earnestly.

"Technicalities don't interest me, Fabray. I want blood and you better believe I'm going to get it."

The blonde steps toward the red head now, "Do your worst."

The Latina joins her, "Yeah, _Paddy Maddy_."

The other girl's face quickly reddens. "That was in middle school."

One of her teammates shoots her a weird look, "What's Paddy Maddy?"

Santana smirks now, "Oh, she didn't tell you? Homegirl here used to stuff her bra."

"So?" Madison sputters. "You got a boob job!"

"Which is a whole lot more effective than Kleenex, don't ya think?"

Brittany nods, "Yeah, you should've at least gone with socks."

The red head rolls her eyes. "You all are pathetic. Especially Teen Mom over there." She says as she shoots Quinn a scathing look.

Quinn can feel Santana tense up beside her but before she has a chance to attack Madison, she grabs her wrist. "It's okay, Santana. I'm not ashamed of Beth."

"You should leave," Brittany pipes up, addressing the other girls.

Madison scoffs but they walk away.

Santana sighs in disappointment. "My right hook could've given her a black eye for at least a week." When the blonde doesn't respond, she becomes worried, "Are you okay, Q?"

The girl realizes she hasn't removed her hand from Santana's wrist and does so now as she nods slowly. "Of course," And she says it with such conviction that she almost believes herself. "Let's just get this game over with."

She smiles as they work their way back toward the other girls and begin their routines.

_[\\]_

They reach the hotel around 10:00 PM and all the girls are exhausted. Santana, Brittany, and Quinn stand in the elevator as it takes them to the third floor.

"Ugh, my feet hurt," The Latina groans.

"Me too," Brittany agrees. "I'm so ready for bed… Where are your roommates?"

Quinn shrugs, "I saw Erin not too long ago. She might already be in the room."

The elevator comes to a halt and they step off it, Brittany turns to the right as the other girls make their way left. "Night!" She calls out.

The other girls spin around and wave to her, "Night!"

They continue walking the length of the hallway in silence. "Uh, so which room are you?" Quinn finally asks.

"313."

"I'm 315," They exchange a quick glance, both smiling a little shyly. "Of course."

"Well, hey, better than being roommates, right?" Santana offers.

Quinn chuckles at that and gives a slight nod. They both reach their doors. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow I guess."

"Yeah, night."

They both enter their rooms. Quinn makes her way to the far bed, and plops her duffel bag down. She hears a slight yelp coming from the other room followed by a banging on her door. Confused, she goes to answer it, only to find Santana standing there.

"Looks like we're rooming together after all."

Quinn's eyes widen, "What?"

"Erin and Ashley are hooking up with guys in my room _so_ I'll be sleeping in here."

"They are not! Not after what Coach said!" The blonde says in sheer disbelief.

"They are," The brunette responds evenly. "I don't know why you seem so surprised. The other girls on our squad are just as slutty, if not sluttier than Britt and I."

"Give me your key," Quinn says as she extends her hand.

The Latina chuckles. "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Santana smirks as she makes her way into the room and takes off her cheerleading outfit to change into some shorts and a tee. Quinn isn't gone long and soon pops back inside the room.

Her face wears an expression of horror. "Don't even say it."

Santana smiles as she whispers. "Told ya."

The blonde notices Santana's state of undress and quickly averts her eyes. Santana doesn't seem to notice though because she's soon changed and crawls into her twin bed. Quinn shakes her head. "You love saying that, don't you?"

"It _is_ pretty fun," The Latina admits with a smile.

Quinn rummages through her duffle bag, finally coming across her change of clothes as she heads into the bathroom to change. When she reenters the room, Santana is already laying on her side so she can't tell if she's asleep or not. She quietly makes her way to her side of the room just in case.

As she puts her outfit away into her bag, she feels something soft hit her on the back of the head, quickly snapping her to attention. "Whatthefuck?"

Quinn looks down to see a pillow at her feet, and then moves her gaze over to see Santana wearing a self-satisfied smirk as she turns around to face the bathroom now. "You know what else is fun? _That_." She starts to settle down in her sheets when she feels something hit her in the back. Her eyes widen in surprise as she slowly turns around to face to the blonde again. Seeing the goofy grin the girl wears almost makes her laugh but she manages to repress it as she glares at her. "You're dead, Fabray."

She springs up from her bed and picks up the pillows using one as a shield and the other to attack the girl across from her. Quinn joins in as she manages to swing her pillow and connect with the side of the girl's face. Santana squeals in mock anger and gives up on the pillows all together as she tackles her on her bed. Once they stop giggling, Quinn finally becomes aware of the fact that Santana is now straddling her on the bed. Feeling the awkwardness of the situation, she starts to sit up but when the brunette doesn't move, she's kept in her place. The Latina's fingertips gently brush themselves along the girl's jawline, as she seems lost in thought.

"Uh, Santana, what are you doing?" The blonde asks nervously.

"What you've been wanting me to do ever since we kissed at Berry's party," The girl's voice is huskier than usual as she begins to lean in towards the girl's face but before she can make contact, Quinn tilts her head to the side.

The blonde feels herself becoming slightly intoxicated by the sound of the girl's voice but shakes her head and stammers a response, "Th-that's not true."

"Really? You could've fooled me," She runs her hand along Quinn's thigh. The blonde becomes panicked knowing that her body is about to betray her so she quickly grabs the girl's wrist to prevent her from moving any further. The brunette smirks, "I know you want me, Quinn. Why do you keep fighting it?"

"I—I don't know what it means."

"It doesn't have to mean anything," She says with a shrug.

"Maybe I want it to mean something."

"Did it mean something with Puck?"

"No, actually. Which is why I want it to mean something this time…" Her words fumbling from her mouth as her body starts to heat up because of the girl's closeness. "I mean, the next time that I do it."

"Stop thinking so much," The Latina groans.

"I've tried that," Quinn says firmly. "It ended with my head in the toilet. Drunk me doesn't think _enough_."

"Why, what were you thinking?" Santana moves her eyes back to the girl's lips, stroking her neck with her free hand.

The blonde sighs, relenting a bit at her touch. "That maybe I wanted to kiss you again."

"And now?" She asks, her voice becoming even deeper.

"I still want to," Quinn whispers as she trembles beneath her at the admission, but she still doesn't remove her hand from the girl's wrist.

"Then what's the problem?" Santana smirks slightly. "Afraid you might go to hell because of me? I'm worth it," She husks as she plants a lingering kiss on the girl's neck.

"Ugh! You're so full of yourself," Quinn says finding her fight again. "Maybe the problem is that I hate you."

"You don't hate me. You _want_ to hate me. There's a difference… So, what's the real problem?"

"Like I said before, I don't know what it means."

"Stop being such a _girl_ and just kiss me."

She leans in again and this time the blonde isn't so quick to pull away. Santana brushes her lips against hers and waits for her to protest. When she doesn't, she envelops her mouth with hers, caressing her lips gently before becoming a little bit rougher. She goes to lick the girl's bottom lip but finds that she's already opened her mouth to her and so her tongue presses against Quinn's. The blonde has to mentally restrain herself from moaning so it doesn't go to Santana's head, but she allows herself to be lost in the taste of her mouth for a second longer before she pinches the girl's thigh.

"Ow!" Santana squeals in surprise.

"Okay. We kissed…" Quinn says evenly. "Now I think you should go back to your bed."

The brunette quirks an eyebrow at her but complies. "Okay. Just so you know, sexual repression isn't healthy, Q." She makes her way under her own covers. "Just sayin'."

"Well, my 'sexual repression' as you call it didn't get us into this mess. Maybe some repression would do you good," The blonde says dryly.

Santana seems to mull it over for a moment. "Nah. Maybe the real problem is that you just need to get laid. Might help you get rid of the stick up your ass."

The blonde scrunches her features up. "Remind me again why I don't hate you?"

"I'm the only person who calls you out on your bullshit, Quinn. Everyone else just lines up to kiss your ass. It's disgusting really. Face it. You love me."

"Please. I'm the only one who ever challenges _you_. If anything, _you_ love _me_."

"Very funny, Fabray. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

This seems to irritate the blonde as she rolls on her side now to face the girl. "You know how I know that I don't love you?"

Santana chuckles but decides to play along, turning on her side to face her as well. "How?"

"I feel like physically injuring you almost every time you open your mouth."

"Honestly I think you just want to fuck me," The Latina says with a grin.

Quinn throws her hands up in the air, realizing that she's fighting a losing battle. "No words. I'm going to sleep." She throws her covers over her and faces away from the girl.

This causes Santana to laugh lightly. "Dream about me, yeah?"

Quinn mutters under her breath. "Only if they're nightmares."

She lies on her side for a while, her anger eventually subsiding. The events of the night replaying in endless loops in her head as she stares at the blank wall in front of her. Her inner dialogue creating such discourse that she can't force herself to sleep even when she does manage to close her eyes.

_Santana Lopez was just straddling you. Santana Lopez just kissed you. You just kissed Santana Lopez. Sober. And you liked it._

_No! I most certainly did not._

_Yes. Yes, you did. And ohmygod, those tits—_

_Lalalalalalaa._

_Keep fighting it, Fabray. Doesn't change the fact that you're hot for her and she knows it. You can't stop thinking about—_

_ARRRRGGGHHHHH!_

She pulls the pillow over her head, trying to block out her thoughts. Finally able to experience some silence, she stays that way until morning. Her eyes grow heavy as she manages to drift off to sleep, if only for a couple hours.

_[\\]_

"Ay, Fabray! Wake up! We gotta go!" Hands began to shake her.

She groans unhappily. "Go away. Far away."

"Quinn, come on! Coach is going to kill us!"

Reluctantly, the blonde finally opens her eyes. She starts a bit when she doesn't see the Latina's face. "Erin? What are you doing here?"

"Santana said you were still sleeping. She's eating breakfast downstairs with the other girls and she basically threatened to tell everyone about Mr. Cuddles unless I came up here to wake you up."

"Mr. Cuddles?" The blonde asks with confusion.

"Oh, he's my teddy bear…" The girl responds, a hint of color reaching her face. "That I still sleep with."

"Wait…" Quinn sits up now and gestures suggestively. "Have you two…?"

"What?" The girl's eyes widen as she realizes what she's asking. "Oh god, no. My brother actually…"

The blonde nods. "Sounds about right…" She sits up in her bed and removes the covers as she rubs her eyes. "Well, let's do this."


	5. Good Behavior

_A/N: Haha. Some of your guys' commentary is cracking me up. I think you'll like this one. x_

* * *

By the time Erin and Quinn join the rest of the girls in the lower region of the hotel, most of them are already done eating. Quinn's hair falls messily around her face, still wet from her morning shower but she still looks half asleep. Santana notices the blonde approaching their table and can't help but let a small smile fall across her lips at the sight of her.

"Well, you look like shit, Fabray," She says cheekily. "Didn't you get much sleep last night?"

Quinn just glares at her but sits down and pulls out her compact to re-inspect the dark circles under her eyes. "I never sleep well when I stay the night in hotels."

The Latina nods in understanding. "I guess that's pretty common. Most people don't do a whole lot of _sleeping_ in hotels."

The blonde sets her jaw and snaps her compact shut. "Yeah, I guess I'm not like Erin," She says changing the subject.

Santana can't help but smirk at her deflection. Erin blushes as she speaks, "Sorry about that, Q. I didn't mean to put you out."

"Oh no, it's fine," Santana assures her. "Q doesn't mind sharing a room with me. We've done it plenty of times before."

Even though it's true, Quinn feels a hint of color spreading to her face, as she can't help but think it sounds dirty now. She feels like screaming at the girl across the table but she realizes that might be a bit too obvious, so instead she bites down on the side of her cheek. "Yeah, it wasn't that big of a deal. I was just surprised that you would risk it with Coach Sylvester being on high alert and all."

Erin groans. "I hope she gets over this whole thing soon. Good behavior isn't really our strong suit."

Brittany returns from the breakfast buffet with an apple in her hand. "True that."

The girls notice their Coach waving to them from the lobby so they gather their duffle bags and the remainder of their breakfasts and make their way over to her. She greets them with her usual morning frown. "The bus is waiting for us outside. You all have 10 minutes to get on, or you're getting left behind."

Brittany shakes her head, "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have a coach that smiles."

"Well, look at Mr. Schue, he's always smiling… And yet, Glee Club has never won anything. I'd rather win," Santana states plainly.

The girls settle down on the bus and get comfortable as they wait to leave. Santana lets Brittany sit by the window this time so she can have the seat by the aisle, secretly wanting to be closer to Quinn who sits in the seat across from them.

The girl looks miserably tired so Santana decides it's probably best to let her alone for the time being. She sinks down in her seat and closes her eyes to try to sleep. She isn't sure how long she stays that way but eventually she's interrupted by the blonde's voice.

"Hey," Quinn whispers.

She peeks an eye open. "What's up?"

The blonde is still whispering as she continues. "I was thinking that the three of us should get together this weekend so we can come up with a game plan. I'm _so_ ready to be done with this whole thing."

"Why are you whispering?" Santana asks in her normal voice before Quinn gestures to a sleeping Brittany. The Latina nods and whispers in return, "What's the rush?"

"Uh, regionals is in two weeks… That's the rush," The blonde says in an obvious tone.

"Right…" Her tone conveys disbelief but she recovers with a simple, "Sounds good."

The blonde doesn't respond right away. "What did you think I was going to say?"

"Nothing," Santana replies flatly.

Quinn sighs and crosses her arms. "You're so frustrating."

Santana rolls her eyes. "So you like to tell me."

The blonde scoffs. "You know what, just go back to sleep."

The Latina looks at her incredulously. "Don't tell me what to do."

Alex pipes up from a couple seats behind them, "Just get fucking married already."

"_Alex_! I swear to god!" Santana groans in frustration.

Quinn laughs lightly, burying her face in her neck pillow. She pulls out her iPod and sticks her ear buds in.

The Latina returns her attention back to her. "What are you listening to?"

The blonde offers her an ear bud. Santana looks over at Britt's sleeping body and quietly gets up to scoot in next to Quinn. She puts the ear bud in and sinks lower in the seat with her so they're at eye level. She hears Titanium playing and smiles.

"I like this song," She says as she admires Quinn's pretty features.

The blonde grins at her and nods in agreement. She feels her stomach flutter a little bit at Santana's closeness. Although she faces forward she watches the girl out of the corner of her eye, her eyes always falling to her lips, making her remember the kiss between them the night before. Her mouth had tasted so good. Why had she pulled away again? It's not like they didn't care about each other, to a certain extent at least. It's not like Santana would ever want a relationship, she had said that she didn't like girls_ that_ way anyway… She just liked to kiss (and occasionally fuck) them. Maybe she had been overthinking everything after all. Maybe she deserved to have a little fun. Like Santana said, it didn't have to mean anything.

Take Over Control by Afrojack (ft. Eva Simons) starts playing over her headphones, causing Quinn to blush furiously as Santana quirks an eyebrow at her. "I swear it's on shuffle," She squeaks nervously.

The brunette throws her head back and laughs loudly. Quinn quickly covers her mouth with her hand, nodding toward the sleeping girl next to them. The Latina finally calms down and when the blonde doesn't remove her hand right away, she flicks the tip of her tongue across her palm.

Quinn's eyes widen as she laughs lightly and squeals, "Ew, Santana! Stop!" She feels Santana's laughter against her hand as this time she bites down on her causing Quinn to draw her hand away rather quickly. "Jerk."

"You deserved it," The Latina says with a grin.

The blonde rolls her eyes. "I'm sorry that I invited you to sit by me now."

The brunette grabs her hand and brings it to her lips, planting a lingering kiss on the bite marks. "Better?"

_Much._

Quinn pulls her hand away, adding, "Fine. You can stay here."

Santana grins. "I wouldn't have left anyway."

Even though her words make Quinn want to pinch her or kick her in the shin, the desire to pull her closer and kiss her seems to be stronger. A pang of longing shoots through her. She's about to turn away from it and face the window again when she realizes that they're both low enough in the seat that no one would probably notice. Before she has any more time to question herself, she grabs the Latina by the neck and pulls her into a chaste kiss. She smiles at Santana's surprise. Before the other girl can kiss her back, she pulls away and sits up in her seat as if nothing had happened. Turning to look out the window now, a self-satisfied grin plays across her lips.

_That should shut her up for a few minutes at least._

A few seconds later Santana seems to have found her voice as she whispers, "Does this mean we're gonna fuck?"

_Eloquent._

The blonde scrunches up her features, her previous irritation suddenly returning as she struggles to keep her voice down. "You are unbelievable. And for the millionth time, _no_. I just wanted to get you to shut up. I realize now how stupid I was to think that was possible."

The Latina shrugs indifferently. "I have all the time in the world, Fabray. Let me know when you decide to stop drowning in your denial and self-delusions."

Quinn shakes her head. "Let me know when you stop being an egotistical maniac who can't get her bitch complex under control."

Santana chuckles as she brings her hand to her heart, feigning hurt. "I bet you've been sitting on that one for a while."

"Since kindergarten," The blonde retorts.

Suddenly, the bus starts to slow down in an unnatural manner causing the driver to pull off to the side of the road. The woman wears a concerned expression as she gets up out of her seat and addresses them, "There seems to be a problem with the engine. I'm going to take a look at it."

Sue stands up as well, "Stay on the bus, ladies. We'll be back."

All the girls groan collectively. Quinn sighs and presses her forehead against the seat in front of her.

_This would happen. _

Alex pipes up again, "I am not getting off this bus when we're parked by a creepy cornfield."

"Good. When Leatherface starts attacking, I'll know where to direct him to," The Latina says as she gets up out of the seat. She brings her arms above her head to do a few stretches.

Alex raises her middle finger above the seat. "Fuck off, Lopez."

Santana chuckles and returns to her seat next to Brittany, nudging the girl awake. "Hey Britt, wake up."

"There's no place like home, there's no place like home…" The blonde mutters as she opens her eyes. She looks confused, "Where are we?"

"The bus broke down. Coach is outside with the driver, they're trying to fix things."

Brittany pouts. "Boo. You shouldn't have woken me up. I was dreaming about flying monkeys."

"You'll have plenty of time for that later."

As if on cue, Coach Sylvester gets back on the bus. "Okay, it looks like we're going to have to call a mechanic. We might have to find another hotel to stay the night in if we can't get this straightened out. Go ahead and call your parents and let them know what's going on. Meanwhile, we're going to walk to a diner that was only a mile or so back so we can get some food." The girls perk up a little bit at the mention of food, which causes Sue to add, "Count calories, ladies."

_[\\]_

The Cheerios finally make their way to the diner and spread out at five different tables. Quinn sits next to Brittany across from Santana, Erin, and Ashley.

"I haven't been in one of these places in forever," Brittany says as she looks around the diner in amazement. "So weird… like déja vu or something."

Erin laughs lightly. "Well, you know we must be stranded in the middle of nowhere if this is where Coach is letting us eat."

"Word," Santana agrees as she looks over the menu.

Brittany squeals and squeezes Quinn's hand lightly. "I hope she's our waitress." She points to a blonde in a tiny red waitress outfit, who heads their way on a pair of rollerblades. She flashes them a big smile, her red lipstick matching her outfit.

"Hey, y'all, I'll be your server today," The blonde says in a cheery voice. "My name is Candy," She says as she runs her pencil along her nametag. "What can I get y'all to drank?"

The twang in her voice causes Santana to break out into a wide grin as she lets herself admire the girl's other… attributes. "Hey Candy, I'll just have a water."

The other girls mimic Santana's answer. Brittany is the only one who pauses before asking, "Do you have Shirley Temples?"

The woman laughs lightly. "Sorry sweet pea, we don't serve those here. You might have better luck getting one at the pub down the street, though I don't think anyone orders those there either. What else can I get ya?"

Brittany seems slightly disappointed. "Chocolate milk then."

"Coming right up! Y'all are so cute in your little cheerleading uniforms!" She says as she gently places a hand on Santana's shoulder before skating away.

"She's a little cray," Ashley adds. "Why did you want her to be our waitress, Britt?"

The blonde smiles, "Because her name is Candy."

Erin looks at her with a raised eyebrow. "Yeah, but you didn't know that before she told us."

"Oh, no, I knew." Brittany says in a convincing tone. "I could just tell. She looked like a Candy to me."

Quinn rolls her eyes, "I really hope that's just her nickname."

Santana laughs lightly. "Oh, come on, she's not that bad."

"You _would_ like her," The blonde mutters.

The waitress returns only moments later with their drinks. "So, do y'all know what you wanna eat?" She says as she looks directly at Santana.

The Latina grins at her, "I don't think we've made up our minds yet. What would you recommend?"

Candy seems to think about it for a moment, resting her hand on Santana's shoulder again. Quinn's crinkles her nose up at the gesture. Was this woman serious? Didn't she have a job to do? So what if she was around their age? This was a respectable establishment wasn't it? She looks around at the other waiters and waitress skating past them in similar outfits. Then again… Maybe not.

After Candy finally collects their orders, she skates away to the kitchen.

Quinn stares at the Latina incredulously. "Santana, you do realize that she's totally hitting on you, right?"

The brunette raises an eyebrow and responds evenly, "Yes, Quinn. I wasn't born yesterday." Then with an excited smile she adds, "I wonder how much free food I can get us."

Brittany seems equally enthusiastic about the idea, "I want dessert. Preferably something with cherries."

"We're not doing this!" Quinn whispers in a hushed tone. "We're supposed to be on good behavior remember?"

Santana shakes her head in annoyance. "God, how does it feel to be so uptight all the time?"

The blonde sets her jaw. "How does it feel to be on the bottom of the pyramid all the time?"

"Come off it, Q, I'm sure you don't always like being on _top._"

The self-satisfied smirk she wears makes Quinn feel like slapping her. Suddenly she can feel something snapping in her as her anger begins to rise. She was sick of of the smug remarks and the incessant teasing. She was sick of the way she felt whenever she thought of the girl's lips and body. But most of all, most excruciatingly, she was sick of Santana.

"Santana, may I have a word?" She says as she stands up from the booth and waits for the Latina to rise. "_Now_."

Santana rolls her eyes but complies recognizing her tone. Quinn starts walking toward the back of the restaurant as the brunette follows her. "Where are we going?"

The blonde grabs her hand as she drags her into the women's restroom, looking for a lock on the main door and when she doesn't find one, pushing her into the handicap stall and closing the door behind them.

"What's happening?" Santana asks, a mixture of confusion and excitement evident in her voice.

Quinn responds by covering her mouth with hers, stealing the brunette's breath as she kisses her. "I'm calling you out. You wanna do this? Let's do it." She backs off of the other girl now and leans against the wall, quirking an eyebrow at her suggestively.

The Latina doesn't need to be asked twice as she quickly covers Quinn's body with her own. She leans in to kiss her but the blonde pulls away at the last second, teasing her. Sensing Santana's frustration, the blonde bites the girl's lower lip, pulling her closer before she allows her to kiss her. Their tongues intertwine and Quinn retracts hers, smiling when Santana's tongue follows hers into her mouth as she begins to suck on it. They break apart for a moment to catch their breath, feeling the heat of one another against each other's lips. The blonde's hazel eyes are dilated and lustful as she whispers huskily, "Give it to me."

The words cause Santana's breath to catch in her throat. She reaches under the blonde's skirt and traces her fingertips along her inner thigh. She can feel Quinn's heat radiating from between her legs, making her eager to give her what she wants but she decides to tease her first as she draws it out a little longer, savoring the moment. Feeling the blonde's body react to hers gives her a bit of a power trip. Knowing now that she was in control of her orgasm. Knowing that the girl had been thinking about this, wanting her, perhaps even touching herself when she did. Knowing that she was about to _have_ the girl most teenage boys would only dream of. The thoughts make her head dizzy as she feels Quinn's labored breathing against her lips.

She slips her hand into her panties and immediately finds her clit, tracing tight circles against it, varying the amount of pressure. She dips her fingers into Quinn's wetness so her movements create a sweet, sticky friction that causes the blonde to throw her head back against the wall.

"Fuck," The blonde whimpers as she releases a languid breath.

With her head thrown back, Santana is given easy access to her neck, which she takes full advantage of. She starts by running her tongue over her collarbone before she works her way upward, pausing occasionally to suck in certain places. After she's traveled the length of her neck, she keeps her lips pressed there as it allows her to feel the moans rising in the girl's throat before she can release them.

Quinn steadies herself against the wall, bucking her hips upward slightly, encouraging the brunette's fingers to travel lower. Santana obliges as she runs the tip of her middle finger along the length of Quinn's entrance. The girl whimpers. Not able to control her lust for her any longer, she slides it inside of her. They both exhale together.

The Latina moans softly. "God, you're so tight, Q."

The girl responds by fisting her hand into Santana's hair and kissing her desperately. It's enough to shut the brunette up as she waits for Quinn to adjust before she starts thrusting herself inside of her, occasionally using her thumb to flick her clit. It doesn't take long before the girl starts to come undone. Her breathing becomes heavy and shallow, punctuated by tiny moans and whimpers.

Before Santana allows her to release herself, she whispers in the blonde's ear. "Say my name."

The girl closes her eyes as she can't seem to focus, a loud moan her only response. Santana keeps the pace neither relenting nor speeding up no matter how much the girl's body begs her to. She forces herself a little deeper inside and holds herself there for a tiny moment.

This time when she speaks her voice is more commanding, deep and heavy with desire. "Say. My. Name."

The words send a tiny shiver down Quinn's spine as she shudders. "Santana," She whispers in a frustrated moan, her eyes roll into the back of her head as she digs her fingernails into the girl's caramel skin.

The slight pain acts as an aphrodisiac and sends the Latina into a frenzy as she works quickly now, building the girl up. She slips a second finger inside her as she feels the blonde's insides tugging at her as she works, hungry for more. Quinn rolls her hips into her, her breathing becoming increasingly labored. The blonde's body tenses and Santana uses the moment to thrust herself deep inside of her, curling her fingers, causing the girl to come. Quinn muffles her scream by biting her lip. Santana holds her as she rides out her orgasm, feeling the girl's body spasm against hers. Once she's finished, she pulls out and wipes her fingers on the inside of the girl's Cheerio skirt.

They pull apart now, Santana not meeting her eyes, unsure of how the girl is going to respond now that it's over. The blonde seems like she's about to say something when they're interrupted by voices as a pair of girls enter the restroom. Santana and Quinn stand in stunned silence, hoping that the girls don't notice them. Luckily, they seem more interested in re-applying their make-up because it isn't long before they're alone again.

A small laugh interrupts Santana's thoughts as she looks over to see the blonde covering her mouth with her hand. The sight causes her to smile. Only Quinn could go from being a moaning, fuckable mess to adorable in three seconds. She laughs along with her a little nervously, still trying to gauge her reaction.

The blonde looks at her now, not really sure where to go from here but eventually speaks up in a soft voice. "It's not like we have to label it, right?"

Santana raises an eyebrow at her and responds evenly. "Right. It's just sex."

Quinn nods in agreement as she grabs a bit of toilet paper and cleans herself up before stepping out of the stall. She makes her way toward the sink and inspects herself in the mirror, running a finger around the outline of her swollen lips. Sensing the Latina's eyes, she looks at her in the mirror, as the girl leans against the bathroom wall watching her. "What?"

"You're hot."

Even though she had heard the words countless times from teenage boys desperate to get into her pants, it's the first time Quinn feels as if they're true. After all, Santana didn't really give compliments; she stated things as if they had always been common knowledge and of course, they were true, because she said they were. The blonde raises an eyebrow but knows better than to read into it too much. "Well, at least you were right about hate sex."

Santana smirks. "Still hate me, eh?"

Quinn returns her attention to fixing herself up in the mirror, allowing her a small smile. "Always."

_[\\]_

As they reenter the restaurant, their friends hurriedly wave them over. "Where were you?"

The blonde panics slightly, not finding her voice. "Uh—"

"We were just discussing which cheers to use for regionals," Santana answers plainly.

_God, how often does she do this?_

The girls shrug. "Okay, well the mechanic got the bus working again so it looks like we'll be able to get back home now without having to stay in a hotel an extra night," Erin informs them.

"Sounds great," Quinn speaks up, starting to regain her composure. "Guess we had better get moving."

The rest of the bus ride home is rather uneventful as the girls settle back into their seats and try to sleep or preoccupy themselves during the remainder of the trip. Quinn closes her eyes and pretends to sleep, feeling Santana's gaze every few minutes. Honestly she still couldn't wrap her brain around everything that had just happened, let alone begin to know how she felt about it. After all, it was probably just a one-time thing. She had gotten caught up in the heat of the moment. She had been angry and had somehow mistaken that for sexual attraction.

_Why did it have to feel so good?_

Why did Santana have to 'compliment' her afterward? Even though she knew it was an offhand comment, the look the brunette had in her eyes as she said it resonated with her. Why did she care if Santana thought she was hot? Why did she care what she thought at all? Besides, it was just a general thing people said to other people that they wanted to fuck. Didn't mean anything.

_Just get through the next two weeks, Fabray. Then everything can go back to the way it was before._

_[\\]_

It's evening by the time they finally reach McKinley High. They all shuffle off the bus, thankful to finally feel pavement beneath their feet. The girls say goodbye to one another before heading out to their cars, which is when Santana notices Sam waiting for her as he leans against a junky sports car. She approaches him with a small smile and a questioning glance. "What are you doing here, Trouty Mouth? Stalker much?"

"You did promise me dinner at Breadstix, remember?" The blonde boy reminds her, his smile reflecting his usual charm.

Santana smiles, appreciating the gesture, "I guess I did, didn't I? But just so you know, this cutesy stuff doesn't really work with me. I'm not, Q."

"Hey, Santana," Quinn interrupts. She looks over to Sam now, acknowledging him. "Hey, Sam." He gives her a small wave in reply as she turns back to the Latina. "I just talked to Brittany and she says that she can do tomorrow for the Cheerios meeting. We're going to meet at my place."

"Yeah, that sounds fine," The brunette replies with a nod.

"Okay, great…" Quinn responds, now realizing the weirdness of the situation. "Have fun. See you then."

She spins on her heels but feels Santana grab her wrist, feeling her fingertips press lightly against her pulse point. "Are we still on for that study session afterward?" She doesn't even raise an eyebrow suggestively as the innuendo is apparent in her voice, though Sam doesn't seem to pick up on it.

Quinn feels her heart beat faster, taken aback by Santana's boldness. She looks between the pair of them but instead of feeling irritated, she feels a pang of desire shoot straight through her. She removes her wrist from the brunette's hand as the feeling of her skin against hers makes her want to take the Latina right where she stands. Realizing she still hadn't answered the question, she quirks an eyebrow at her and replies with a soft "Yeah…" before turning around and making her way to her car.

_Very funny, Q. I thought you wanted things to go back to way they used to be?_

_._

_._

_._

_Shut up._


	6. One Down

_A/N: Just want to give a shout out to boringsiot who's been my most dedicated reviewer since day one. Also, a huge thank you to guest "We" who said they want to watch this show instead of Glee, that's pretty much the best compliment I could ever hope for! Enjoy! x_

* * *

The three girls sat gathered around Quinn's dining room table on a late Sunday afternoon. They were coming up with ideas to reinvent the Cheerios image before they lost their funding and they had two weeks to do it. They had been at it for quite a while now as Quinn was finding it hard to concentrate. Whenever they made progress, her mind would stray to the 'study session' that was supposed to happen afterward. What this 'study session' entailed, she wasn't even sure. She still couldn't believe that she even agreed to it in the first place. Obviously the long bus ride had gotten to her, or perhaps the sketchy diner food had been poisoned and caused a momentary bout of madness, or the most likely explanation being that her body had been temporarily hijacked by a supernatural/extraterrestrial entity. Whatever the reason, Quinn had made it her mission to scrutinize the Latina's every movement over the course of this so-called meeting in an attempt to figure her out. The blonde could tell her intense scrutiny was making Santana nervous (a fact that made her rather pleased with herself) as the girl had already downed three bottles of water.

_Drinking all my bottled water. Who does she think she is anyway?_

"Q, are you okay?" Brittany's voice brings her back to reality.

Quinn tries to snap herself out of it and turns to the blonde. "Yeah, sorry. I'm just a bit distracted."

Santana's laugh interrupts her, as she seems to be reading a funny text message.

_Rude._

"Santana, could you at least _try_ to focus?" Quinn snaps.

The brunette glares at her. "You're the one off in La La Land."

"Well, I'm back, so can we please finish this?"

The Latina sighs but sets her phone down. "Okay, _Barbie_. What do we have again?"

Quinn ignores the jab and reads from her laptop screen. "Wednesday: Volunteering at a soup kitchen. Saturday: Carwash to raise money for cancer. Then the following Tuesday: Speaking at an abstinence seminar at McKinley Middle School."

Santana chuckles. "The last one is my favorite. Irony is a bitch."

_And so are you._

"So, we all agree that this sounds like a good plan then?"

Brittany smiles. "It sounds like an _awesome_ plan. Like, baby genius worthy. There will be Ke$ha at the car wash, right?"

"I'll bring my speakers," Quinn volunteers.

Brittany looks confused but then adds earnestly. "No, I mean she actually _will_ be there, right?"

Santana reaches over to squeeze her hand as she delivers the disappointing news. "I don't think we have the budget for that, Britt."

The gesture is so gentle that Quinn feels herself glaring at Santana again. Why was she always so nice to Brittany? What had she ever done to convince the Latina to make her the brunt of her emotional torture?

The brunette seems to feel her staring again and suddenly she snaps. "_What?_"

The blonde sighs huffily. "Oh, nothing… I just find it interesting is all."

Santana seems to be over whatever melodrama Quinn is bringing as she folds her arms. "And what would that be? The way we've managed to throw away a perfect Sunday afternoon? Or how about the way you've been staring at me like a serial killer throughout this entire meeting? Or maybe you're referring to something_ really_ interesting, like say, I don't know, the latest development in Robsten's relationship?" She ends her little rant with a challenging stare.

Quinn knows exactly what she wants to say. She feels it on the tip of her tongue.

_I just find it interesting how you always manage to be such a colossal bitch._

But for some reason she doesn't. The insult feels too personal given their previous encounter. After all, it wasn't Santana's fault that she was confused about it. She had wanted it, asked for it. It had been dirty and uninhibited. It had awoken something in her that she wasn't sure had existed before she felt Santana touch her _there_, something she didn't know how to deal with.

She sighs, finally responding lamely. "I just find it interesting that you're drinking all my bottled water."

Santana doesn't seem to know how to respond so Brittany fills the silence for them. "Don't worry, Q. I'll fill them up for you again."

Quinn smiles at her friend affectionately. "It's okay, Britt. Don't worry about it."

Brittany nods. "Okay, well if we're done, I should probably get home. Lord Tubbington doesn't like it when he misses one of his eight meals."

Santana screws up her face. "Eight meals?"

"I know. I keep telling him to eat less but he says he's on the Redneckognize Honey Boo Boo diet." The Latina just looks at her with a questioning glance before the blonde continues, "Did you want to walk home with me?"

Now Santana starts to fidget a bit as she tries to get a read on Quinn but the blonde doesn't seem to be helping much as she just sits there with a wide-eyed expression. "Uh, that's okay, Britt… I think I'm going to stay and fill up those water bottles like we talked about."

"Oh, no worries. Quinn said we didn't have to worry about it." She looks to Quinn for confirmation and the blonde just smiles at her weakly, her face becoming more and more pale.

"Yeah, but I don't want to be rude," The brunette concludes nonchalantly.

Brittany narrows her eyes suspiciously now and whispers in sincere anger. "Imposter! What have you done with the real Santana?"

Knowing that any further discussion past this point would be fruitless the Latina jumps up from her seat. "Okay! Let's walk home."

Quinn seems to finally process what's happening and speaks up now. "Wait." The girls look at her expectantly as they're almost out the door. She can't believe she's doing this but she doesn't know if she'll ever have the opportunity to talk to Santana about this again. "I, uh, really could use some help with those water bottles, San."

"Okay, sure." The Latina responds evenly. "I'll catch up with you later, Britt."

The blonde nods and makes her way out the door. "Bye, Q."

"Bye, Britt."

The door closes behind her. The two girls stare at each other in awkward silence. Quinn finally lets herself take in the sight of the girl in front of her. Truth be told, she loved seeing Santana in her regular clothes. The Latina knew how to dress herself and no matter what she wore, it always hugged her body in all the right ways.

_So goddamn pretty._

Quinn chastises herself a bit wondering if the Latina could tell what she was thinking. It's not like she needed anyone to stroke her ego. Santana seems thrown by her silence, unsure of what to make of it. Hesitantly, she steps toward her.

"Look Q, I just want to say that nothing more has to happen between us if you don't want it to. I think I got a bit caught up in the moment. If anything more _were_ to happen, I would want it to be different. Not like with_ feelings_ or anything but—"

Suddenly, Quinn's lips are on hers as the blonde shoves her down on the couch before reconnecting their bodies as she continues kissing her. She feels Quinn's hands run along her lean body, enjoying the warmth of her them against her skin. The brunette's body responds immediately as she slips her tongue into Quinn's mouth and fists a hand into her hair.

She couldn't believe this was happening. That she _wanted_ it to happen. Was she really about to let Quinn Fabray _fuck_ her? The thought sends a palpable heat throughout her body, it courses and pulses in all the right places. The desire feeling foreign to her as she was never one to relinquish control—especially in the bedroom where she always orchestrated her own orgasms. Even when Brittany had returned the favor, it was always under her instruction, always exactly how she wanted it. Quinn didn't seem to care how she wanted it. As long as she wanted it, she was going to _give_ it to her, but only on her own terms. And it was making her hot, hotter than she had ever been before. The anticipation builds, the thought of feeling Quinn between her legs driving her crazy as her body begs for more.

The blonde's movements become bolder as she feels the other girl's desire coming off of her in waves. She slips one of her hands under the Latina's shirt and begins kneading her breast. Santana moans loudly at her touch and Quinn feels a sudden desperation to be inside of her. She quickly moves her hands down to Santana's jeans, but stops short when she hears a familiar sound.

_Shit, shit, shit._

The brunette feels the blonde freeze and looks up at her with concern, "What is it?"

"My mom's home," Quinn says as she quickly gets off of Santana and begins adjusting her clothing. The Latina seems to panic more than she does as she springs up almost immediately.

"Hey, Quinnie—" Her mom seems on the verge of a question but stops short when she sees the brunette. "Oh, hi, Santana."

"Hi, Mrs. Fabray," The Latina says nervously and Quinn can't help but think it's one of the few times she's seen her lose her cool.

The woman turns her attention to her daughter now. "Where's Brittany?" When Quinn looks dumbfounded she adds, "You girls never hang out together unless she's around."

Quinn begins to blush as she realizes her mother had a point. "She was just here a few minutes ago. She had to leave though… And Santana and I are working on a school project together for… school."

"What project?" Her mother asks casually as she makes her way to the kitchen.

"Anatomy project," Santana says, speaking up. Then adds a quiet afterthought that's barely audible, "Called find the G-Spot." The brunette feels Quinn glaring at her but pretends not to notice, though she can't help but meet her eyes and shoot her a devilish grin. Having regained her confidence she gets up from the couch. "I'll see you tomorrow, Q… Bye, Mrs. Fabray."

"Bye, Santana," The woman calls out without turning around.

The blonde watches her in awe as she makes her way toward the door.

_That ass._

She sighs disappointedly as she watches the girl walk out the front door, not caring about the implication behind it.

_[\\]_

"Alright, listen up!" Coach Sylvester's voice booms over the megaphone. "You all have the schedules for the next two weeks, participation is mandatory. You don't show up for one event, don't bother showing up at all."

"Harsh, much?" Erin mutters.

The girls are all spread out on the track as they listen to their coach ramble on.

"Yeah. Nice going, Lopez. Now I'm going to have to cancel my hair appointment tomorrow," Alex says as she glares at the Latina.

"Tell your hair stylist she can send the thank you card to my house," Santana says with an eye roll.

"Will you two stop fighting?" Quinn turns her head around and speaks up, whispering between clenched teeth. "I don't feel like doing extra laps today." She turns back around when they settle down.

"Don't get your panties in a wad, Fabray," The Latina says as she leans forward, and Quinn can feel the heat of her breath grazing the back of her neck.

The fact that she used her name and 'panties' in the same sentence eliciting a response she's glad Santana can't see. She decides to shift her focus instead to watching the football team practice, which is when she catches eyes with Finn and Sam whose body language suggests that they're talking about her. Finn stares at her amorously; Sam with something she can't quite place. Either way it causes her stomach to churn as she swallows nervously.

Santana seems to notice as well as she mutters venomously, "God, you just walk on water, don't you?"

Suddenly, she wishes she could yell at the boys to stop staring at her. She never fully understood her appeal anyway since she always felt like she was coming undone. It's not that she didn't think she was pretty but she wasn't Santana—Santana with her tanned skin and flawless complexion, Santana who seemed to ooze confidence and sensuality with the simplest of gestures, Santana whose body was probably better than hers. Hell, she could pretty much attest to it at this point. In an attempt to ease her impending wrath she speaks up softly, "Sam's with _you_ now."

To which the Latina replies, "Whatever that means. I don't do relationships."

And that was that.

Cheer practice ends and Quinn can't pack her things up fast enough. She had managed to avoid Finn for the past couple days and it was going to stay that way if she could help it. Brittany sidles up to her. "How're you holding up?"

She shoots her a weak grin. "Fine. I guess you and Santana probably have it worse. At least I got some social pariah practice in last year to prepare me for it."

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen…" Quinn rolls her eyes upon recognizing Santana's voice, noting thankfully it's just her regular bitch tone. "And then risen again unscathed."

The blonde zips up her duffle bag. "If you honestly think that, you're delusional." She spins around to face her now.

"Not in the mood for jokes?" She says with a teasing grin.

"But I'm guessing you already knew that," Quinn responds evenly. "I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Since we'll be in a kitchen I'm sure you'll feel right at home, Barbie," The Latina calls after her.

Not prepared to let Santana get the final word Quinn fires back, "Better a kitchen than the back of a pick up truck." She revels in the look on Santana's face before she steps out of the locker room, a small grin playing across her features. Sometimes it felt good to win.

_[\\]_

"Okay, what the _hell_ is this?" Alex looks down into a pot of soup with a grossed out expression on her face.

All of the Cheerios are spread out in various parts of the soup kitchen; some inspecting the place, while others are texting or chatting. They've all come directly from school, which only adds their displeasure of their current situation.

"Good question," Brittany adds. "I'm not even sure Lord T would eat this, and he's like the least picky eater that I know. He once ate part of a tire."

"The better question is why the hell do we have to wear _these_?" Santana huffs as she puts on a hairnet. "My hair can't handle this kind of abuse."

Quinn walks by with a sigh, "And you call _me_ Barbie."

Sue pokes her head in, "Alright, ladies. Some of you will be serving up front, some will be helping in the kitchen, and some will be taking inventory in the back. If you even have to ask which station you're at, let me put it this way: Cheerio failures in the back, Cheerio disappointments in the kitchen, and Cheerio mediocrity out front."

"Wait, I'm confused," Brittany squeaks.

Sue ignores her. The rest of the girls start to move toward their designated stations when Sue turns to Santana, "Lopez, you'll be staying in the kitchen. I want to keep an eye on you." Quinn can't help but chuckle at the irony. "Think that's funny, Fabray? You're responsible for her." That shuts her up.

Santana groans. "Perfect."

"But Coach don't you want me to help serve out front?" The blonde asks in protest.

"Fabray, we're serving soup to homeless people. If that's not depressing, I don't know what is. The last thing they need is to be served by pretty blondes who remind them of everything they don't have, and though you lack my bone structure and keen sense of style, I've decided to add you to that list." Sue turns on her heels as she heads out the kitchen door.

Noting Quinn's smile at the half-compliment causes Santana to roll her eyes. "Well, I guess there are perks to being a kiss ass after all."

The blonde glares at her. "If you consider being stuck with you a perk, you really don't know the meaning of the word." Her features seem to soften when she realizes Santana's proximity to her.

The Latina raises an eyebrow at her but turns back to the task at hand. "Punishment then?" Quinn nods half-heartedly. "So, what are we doing exactly?"

"Well, I guess we're just cutting vegetables for now." The blonde picks up a knife and starts to work on one of the carrots so Santana follows suit. Quinn glances over and smiles amusedly at the girl's clumsy movements. "For someone being from the 'wrong side the tracks,' I thought you'd be better with a knife," She muses teasingly.

"Don't make me go all Lima Heights on you, Blondie. You'd be on the floor in no time." Quinn just grins at her, which causes Santana pause. "So, are you gonna help me or what?"

The blonde reaches over and takes another carrot. "You're not trying to shank it, you're just slicing and creating a steady rhythm." Santana watches the way Quinn's delicate fingers hold and work the knife with such finesse that she wonders if it's normal to be envious of inanimate objects.

When the blonde turns her attention to her, she clears her throat and nods, trying it out for herself. Quinn sighs but speaks gently, "You're holding the knife wrong; your index finger should be on top." She reaches over to re-adjust Santana's fingers with her own and lets them linger for a second longer than necessary.

When the Latina looks back up at the blonde, she sees that her eyes have wandered to her lips, which causes a slight smirk to play across her features. Quinn realizes she's been caught but instead of blushing or shying away from her like she usually does, she just quirks an eyebrow at her, and turns back to her work. Santana stands frozen for a few moments. Since when was Quinn okay with looking at her that way? She feels her skin heat up a little bit but quickly turns back to the vegetables, deciding she had probably been reading too much into it. They continue cutting vegetables in silence for several minutes before Quinn speaks up again.

"You know, if you don't have a ride after this thing, I could give you one," She offers casually.

Santana knows that the girl didn't mean it to sound dirty but her head was going straight to the gutter. She doesn't know whether to laugh at herself or just say 'fuck it' and jump Quinn's bones. Instead, she responds in a similar tone, "I don't have one. Thanks." She cuts up a few more carrots before picking up her cell. She casually glances over at Quinn as she feigns interest in her social networking sites before quickly typing out a text.

**Britt, tell Ashley I don't need a ride anymore.**

_[\\]_

Quinn and Santana clamber into the blonde's car, getting ready to make their way home from the soup kitchen. They sit silently for a few moments to regroup.

"Well, that was brutal." Santana says with a frown.

The blonde moans and rests her head on her steering wheel. "One down, two to go. We're not going to have any friends left on the Cheerios after this."

"Not that we really had any before," The Latina responds evenly which elicits a small laugh from the blonde.

She sighs softly. "Well, at least we got to help people."

"Yeah, that's more _your_ thing, Blondie."

"Oh, really?" The blonde asks incredulously. "Then what's your thing?"

"Being a bitch I guess," Santana responds with a shrug.

Quinn gives her a sideways look; the girl's candor had a way of catching her off guard sometimes. "You're not always one… I wouldn't be your friend if you were really that one dimensional."

The Latina turns to her with a small smirk. "Oh, so we're friends now?"

"More or less… As per usual." The blonde starts the car and the stereo system starts up automatically as they make their way out of the parking lot.

Santana scrunches her features up. "What is this?"

"Mumford and Sons."

"Oh… White girl music," The brunette states disapprovingly.

Quinn grins. "You weren't complaining about my music the other day."

"Didn't really have time with your tongue down my throat and all," Santana says casually. When the blonde doesn't respond right away, she realizes that she probably had misread their interaction back at the soup kitchen after all.

Quinn seems nervous but speaks evenly, "You can change it if you want."

They continue the rest of the car ride in silence, though Santana does take her up on her offer to change the music, and spends the majority of the time flipping from station to station. The Latina looks out the window now as she recognizes the familiarity of her neighborhood. As Quinn pulls the car over in an emptied church parking lot, she turns to look at her skeptically.

"Uh, you do realize my house is on the next block right?" The brunette says with the perfect amount of confusion and disdain.

The blonde seems amused by her reaction and shoots her a teasing grin. "What's wrong, Lopez? A walk might do you good." When the girl glares at her and starts to get out, she reaches over and grabs her wrist. "Hey, come on. I was just joking… That's not why I parked a blocked away," And the way Quinn's hand lingers on her makes the other girl pause.

A questioning smile spreads across Santana's face. "Oh my god, Fabray. Is this your version of a booty call?"

Not liking the girl's tone, she rolls her eyes, "Calm yourself." Santana's eyes are growing dark but when she moves toward her, the blonde pulls away. "I'm the driver remember?" The Latina arches an eyebrow at her, but leans back in her seat with a playful smile on her lips. Quinn can feel herself getting nervous under the intensity of Santana's gaze but hopes it doesn't come across in her voice. "So, are you going to get in the back or what?"

The Latina grins and reaches across to graze her fingertips across the girl's thigh. "What was that you said about me giving it up in the back of a pick up truck the other day?" And for the life of her, Santana doesn't know why she's giving her a hard time because she's pretty sure she's about to do very dirty things to the girl if she doesn't touch her soon.

Quinn stops her hand and when she speaks her voice sounds like wet sex, "Well, lucky for you, I'm not tacky enough to drive a pick up truck." And even though her words have the desired effect, Santana can tell she's starting to get nervous again as she's clearly out of her comfort zone.

Wanting to quell her insecurity, the Latina begins to close the distance between them, waiting for Quinn's permission before she crashes her lips against hers. She eases her tongue into her mouth, tracing along its insides before she pulls away and climbs into the back seat, urging the blonde to join her by gently tugging on her arm. Quinn complies with a small grin, her eyes becoming hungry as she climbs on top of her and reconnects their lips in another heated kiss. This time when they break apart, Santana whispers huskily in her ear, "You make me so hot, Q."

The words propel the blonde forward as she gives her her fingers, fingers that start out a bit hesitantly at first but become more self-assured as they meet liquid heat. Delicate, strong fingers that could only belong to Quinn Fabray, touching her in a way she had dreamed about for a little bit longer than she cared to admit.


	7. Complicated

_A/N: Thank you for all the support guys. Sorry I haven't had as much time to write since I'm finishing up with school projects and such. Hope everything is going well with you. Shout out to momo0424 on this one and all the new followers/reviewers I've gained since the last chapter (Yay, 100!). Also, I 1000% agree with you boringsiot. Brittany used to have some of the best one liners and now she's been relegated to shitty end of the world plots. To be fair though, which Glee character haven't they ruined? Smh. *END RANT* x_

* * *

Seeing as how Mrs. Fabray would be out of town Friday night, Quinn had invited Santana to stay to the night. She had stated that it would be better for carpooling reasons because the Cheerios Car Wash for Cancer event was the following morning and this way they could go together. Santana had agreed, hoping that a night filled with Quinn would satisfy her increasing hunger. She was told to arrive at 7:00 but being one of the most impatient people in the world, she showed up at 6:45. Then deciding that being 15 minutes early seemed desperate, she walked around the block until 7:15 before finally knocking on the door. It hadn't taken them long to end up in Quinn's bed and though Santana still remained fully clothed, she had managed to strip the blonde down to just her underwear.

"I've never had anyone go down on me before…" Quinn says nervously as she looks down at the Latina, perched between her legs. "What if I don't like it?"

Santana holds back a chuckle. "Trust me, you will…" Then in a gentler tone, "If you want me to stop, just say so."

When she nods the go ahead, Santana kisses along the inside of Quinn's thigh, smirking slightly when she sees how wet she is. Teasingly, she runs her tongue against the fabric of her panties, eliciting a moan from the blonde. She quickly hooks her fingers around them and slides them off in one swift movement. The sight of Quinn's exposed sex causes her to involuntarily lick her lips as she digs her fingertips into soft, creamy skin. The blonde seems to grow anxious when the Latina doesn't respond right away so to keep her mind at ease, she blows a soft breath of air against her hyper sensitive skin, the slight sensation making the girl whimper.

"Pleeease," She begs.

Santana grazes her tongue along her entrance, watching Quinn open herself up to her. She ends the movement by planting a suckling kiss on her clit before pulling away, watching the girl's body become frantic with need. The blonde fists her hands into her sheets, a desperate moan escaping her lips.

"Santanaaaa."

The girl repeats the action, letting her tongue delve inside her this time, which causes the blonde to shudder. She elicits a guttural moan unlike any Santana has heard before, causing her stomach to coil with desire. She works faster now, attaching herself to the girl's swollen sex as she sucks and swishes her tongue against it. She smiles as Quinn gives herself over to her and loses herself in the moment, threading her fingers into her hair. The Latina holds her hips in place, digging her fingertips into her possessively as she lets the blonde rock her hips into her, riding her pretty face. The girl's muscles begin to flutter underneath her as she comes undone, driving her to edge of oblivion. When Quinn finally lets go, she comes hard and Santana eagerly drinks her in until she has nothing left to offer. As if leaving her signature, she places two soft kisses on the girl's clit before bringing herself up beside her on the bed.

Santana wears a pleased grin as she admires the sight of the girl next to her. "You always look so hot after you come. I could fuck you all day."

The blonde takes a few moments to compose herself before she gets off the bed and walks over to the dresser, shrugging off her bra as she faces away from her. "Is that the reason you sleep with me?" Even though her tone is even, she seems genuinely curious.

Santana matches her tone. "What do you mean?"

Quinn rummages through her drawers, finally picking out a loose V-neck that she throws on. "You get off on me getting off on you?" Next she pulls on a pair of boy shorts.

The Latina watches her silently, wondering if Quinn would ever be comfortable enough to let her see all of her at once. When the blonde turns to face her, she shrugs slightly, noting contentedly that at least she could still see the girl's tits through her top. "Well, why do you sleep with me?" It comes across as more of a statement.

Quinn takes in the sight of Santana lying provocatively on her bed, and though she's still fully dressed, the sight makes her crazy with want. She jumps on top of her, straddling her. "I like the way your mouth and skin taste," She plants a kiss on her lips for added effect.

"I like the feeling of your hard and soft body against mine," She says as she runs her hand over Santana's breast, circling her hardened nipple with her fingertip.

"I like the feeling of you inside me. I like that after I come you leave two small kisses on me."

Santana runs her hands along her body, looking up into the girl's hazel eyes as she attempts to finish her thought, "I like—"

Her words are cut off by the Latina's kiss as she pulls her impossibly closer, grabbing her by the waist. Their tongues battling for dominance as Quinn takes Santana's into her mouth and gently sucks on it, causing the girl to moan. The brunette plays with the hem of the blonde's shirt as she tries to sneak a hand underneath it but she's quickly batted away.

"Stop. My turn."

The blonde removes Santana's top and covers her in kisses, her hands working their way lower until they find her jeans. Hastily, she unbuttons them and pulls them down, causing Santana to chuckle. She helps her by lifting her legs off the bed and wiggling out of them as Quinn tugs. She's quickly back on her, running her hands along her smooth skin as she kisses her passionately. The Latina moans as the girl quickly rids her of her black lace bra, stopping to give each of her breasts some much needed attention before working her way down to her matching panties. Growing impatient, the blonde rips them off, which enrages and excites Santana all at once.

"Quinn! Are you fucking kidding me? Those were fifteen dollars!"

The blonde quickly covers her protestations with kisses. "I'll buy you new ones."

This causes the Latina to smile as she wraps her arms around Quinn's neck and kisses her back. "I've never had a sugar mama before," She says teasingly.

"Shut up and spread your legs," The blonde says as she slaps her thigh.

Santana laughs lightly but does as she's told. Quinn makes her way between them, planting suckling kisses on her and using her tongue to work her clit. The girl moans as she watches her work. The sight of the pretty blonde between her legs makes her come almost immediately, so to maintain some semblance of pride she averts her gaze to the ceiling while raking her blunt fingernails against the back of the girl's neck. When Quinn has her where she wants her, she enters her with her fingers, and draws her body back up Santana's so she can kiss her, wanting to feel her breathy moans against her lips. Quinn uses her free hand to pull back on the brunette's hair so her neck is easily exposed, and as she feels the girl clenching around her fingers, she sucks on the exposed flesh before biting down. The Latina arches herself off the bed as she orgasms, the blonde's name leaving her lips, as her body presses against hers so that she feels Quinn's hardened nipples against her own.

"Fuck," Santana breathes. The blonde keeps her body pressed against hers as she watches the brunette work to regain control of her body and her breathing. She places tiny kisses all over her, helping to wind her down. Having finally regained her composure, the Latina runs a hand up Quinn's shirt and firmly squeezes her breast. "Your body turns me on so much."

"Yours too," Quinn says as she places a soft kiss on her erect nipple. She smiles down at her, brushing her dark hair out of her eyes, "You're so pretty, San."

The brunette doesn't acknowledge the compliment but smiles anyway, lazily resting her hand on the small of her back. "So, what now?"

"Hmm…" The blonde says pensively before breaking out into a grin. "Wanna watch _Bring It On_? I still have all the cheers memorized."

Santana smiles slightly. "Really? Me too… But if you even think about telling anyone, I will definitely bury you." Quinn doesn't seem threatened by her comment; in fact, she seems to find it amusing, which causes an uneasy lump to form in the brunette's throat. "Lend me a pair of your boy shorts." As the blonde gets off of her and makes her way to her dresser, a sinking feeling settles somewhere in the pit of Santana's stomach. She stares off into the distance, losing herself in her thoughts.

As Quinn shuffles through the contents of her drawers, she sneaks a glance at the naked girl splayed across her bed, wondering how someone could be so open and closed off at the same time.

The two make an attempt to watch the movie but quickly end up tangled in one another again before drifting off to sleep in twisted sheets.

_[\\]_

The following morning, the blonde wakes up to Santana bouncing on her bed and slapping her ass. Groggily, she opens her eyes, but she snaps to attention when she sees what Santana is doing. "San, are you eating my toaster strudels?"

Quinn's shrill voice catches the Latina by surprise, which causes her to respond negatively despite the fact that she's holding one in her hand.

The blonde calms down a little bit upon seeing her startled expression, "Is it a strawberry one?"

Santana shakes her head. "No… It's the other flavor."

"You mean blueberry? The Latina nods affirmatively and is surprised when Quinn pulls her into a quick kiss and flicks her tongue across her lips before letting go. "Liar. I knew it was strawberry."

The casualness of the whole exchange causes Santana to pause. "I can make you one?"

Quinn doesn't seem to hear her though as she's reading a text on her phone.

"Who is it?" The brunette asks as she settles on the bed next to her.

"Finn."

The mention of his name causes Santana to bristle. "Oh." When the blonde doesn't elaborate she adds, "What does he want?"

"He wants to talk," Quinn says plainly, not meeting her gaze. "I've been avoiding him for the past couple days."

The Latina can feel her annoyance at the blonde's vagueness starting to get the better of her. "Well, what do you _think_ he wants?"

Quinn's answer is almost immediate, not liking the change in the Latina's tone. "After the way I kissed him, he probably wants to get back together."

"Is that what you want?" Her voice is searching.

The blonde seems to think about that for a second, returning to an even tone. "Actually, it would probably be a good idea… Then we'd be dating the two most popular guys in school. It would be good for our reps, probably help put this whole diary thing behind us." She nudges her friend. "Good idea. Don't you think?"

The Latina nods, finding a sudden interest in the lint on her jean shorts. "Yeah, definitely."

"Maybe we could even double date," The blonde offers.

"Sure." Then finding her spitfire again, "Just don't sit me next to Blubber. I wouldn't want to end up like Jonah or that wooden puppet."

"You mean Pinocchio?" Santana nods half-heartedly, and Quinn smiles teasingly. "Your lack of Disney knowledge is just sad."

"And _yours_ is terrifying." Her voice carries more venom than she initially intended but if Quinn notices, she doesn't say anything.

It's a few more minutes before they speak again as the blonde rushes around to get dressed before looking over at her friend with a questioning glance. "We _do_ have to leave soon. Are you ready?"

"Yeah. Not all of us take forever to get ready, _Barbie_." Nevertheless, Santana takes out her mascara and reapplies a second layer, not chancing another look in the blonde's direction. As she inspects herself in the vanity, she happens upon the mark that the girl left on her neck the night before, muttering bitterly, "Fucking Christ."

When they're both finally in the car, Quinn shoots her a look, "And as predicted, I was the one having to wait for you."

"Only because you decided to mutilate my body and I had to spend 10 minutes covering it up."

"Oh, _please_, you're such a drama queen. Send me the bill."

"This body is worth more than your monthly allowance, Q," Santana retorts.

The blonde looks at her with a humorless expression. "Did your boob doctor tell you that?"

The Latina laughs venomously. "Ya best get me to this car wash alive because there is no _fucking_ way I'm being buried with this monstrosity on my neck!"

Quinn just sits there looking incredulous before she finally starts the engine. She cranks the volume up on her Mumford and Sons playlist and peels out of the driveway. "Don't tempt me, Santana."

_[\\]_

The girls arrive and realize that most of their teammates are already there. Santana quickly peels her jean shorts off, leaving her in her Cheerios bikini that they all had been given as one of the perks of making it on the squad, along with gym and tanning memberships. She glances over at Quinn who keeps on a pair of butt shorts and a tiny black halter-top over hers, which causes her to sigh in disappointment. The blonde seems to hear it as she shoots her a questioning glance.

"I can't believe I have to throw away another Saturday for _this_," She says as she gestures to the group of cheerleaders who are already running around with buckets of soapy water instead of doing any actual washing of the cars.

Brittany approaches them from behind and throws her arms around Santana's shoulders. "Hey, guys."

"Hey, Britt," The Latina greets as she pats her gently on the arm.

"We're washing Mr. Schue's car first. You'll come help, won't you?"

"Of course," Santana says with a grin.

The girls look over at Quinn, who's obviously distracted but when she feels their eyes on her, she smiles.

"Yeah, sounds good."

As they make their way toward the front of the parking lot, the sound of pop music coming from one of the cheerleader's stereos gets progressively louder. Upon reaching Mr. Schue's car, Quinn and Brittany decide to take sponge duty while Santana grabs the hose, which they quickly learn is probably not the best idea they've ever had because it takes less than thirty seconds before they're both completely drenched, the Latina laughing maniacally at their shocked expressions.

"Santana!" Quinn whines, she glares at her friend but there's warmth behind it.

Her halter-top sticks to her now becoming more uncomfortable the longer it's on her and so she goes to remove it, the brunette temporarily frozen in her tracks. She can't help but lick her lips at the sight of Quinn's exposed flesh, finding a sort of perverse pleasure in the slight bruising on her hips where she had touched her the night before. Tentatively, she thinks about running her fingertips across her skin, wanting to feel it heat up from her touch.

"Hey."

Suddenly Santana wishes Quinn would put her damn halter-top on again.

The blonde spins around to face the tall brunette boy now, "Hey."

He grins at Quinn with a dopey smile and Santana considers slapping it off his face. "Nice car wash. I hear you planned it?"

Quinn smiles slightly. "Not exactly, we came up with the idea though… Not that we had much of a choice."

Finn seems to notice the Latina now, "Hey, Santana."

"Hi," She responds flatly. A million insults rush into her head but she doesn't really feel like fighting with the blonde again so she joins Brittany as they move on to the next car.

Finn seems a bit shy now that they're alone. "So… That kiss…"

A small smile tugs at the blonde's lips. "It was pretty good, right?"

"Definitely not a 4."

"I was thinking an 8.5," She says as she shields her eyes from the glaring sun.

The boy finally takes in the sight of the girl in front of him. "At least." The words widen her smile. "There's a party tonight… Wanna go together?"

Quinn shifts her gaze over to the brunette girl and her smile falters slightly as she sees Sam approaching her. She quickly returns her attention to the boy, smile back in place. "Sure. Sounds fun."

_[\\]_

"Hey, Santana."

Santana turns to notice the blonde boy beside her. Suddenly she feels the need to lash out at someone and Sam seems as good a target as any. "What do you want, Trouty Mouth? Your lips are looking especially large today. At this rate, Lima will run out of collagen before the next major holiday."

"Whoa, hey. I just wanted to talk." He leans against the side of the car with a casual shrug. "Guess you can't break up McKinley's golden couple, huh?"

Santana follows his gaze and suddenly it clicks. "Oh, I get what this is… You asked me out because you wanted to make Quinn jealous."

His face reddens as he hangs his head. "I—"

"Don't apologize," Santana responds flippantly. "I don't really care… Actually, I didn't think you had it in you."

"Huh?" A look of confusion crosses his face.

"You're such a boy scout. The thought of you actually liking me was beginning to make me physically sick."

"Well, I—"

"We should go to that party together."

He pauses now. "Why would you wanna go with me?"

"Britt's taking Artie. Looks like Quinn's going with the creepy man-child. And since I can't really stand the sight of Puckerman at the moment, looks like it's your lucky night."

"But—"

"Pick me up at 8:00." And since the conversation is over, Santana goes back to washing cars, leaving a confused Sam in her wake.

_[\\]_

When Quinn arrives at the party in Finn's truck, she feels herself relax a little bit. Things were finally getting back on track. The car wash had gone pretty smoothly and even though she wasn't sure how much cleaning was actually done, the customers didn't seem to mind—not to mention they had also raised some money for a good cause. Now she found herself going to a house party with the quarterback of the football team, and for once she didn't feel the need to drink herself under the table… All she had to do was refrain from looking at Santana's cleavage and she'd be fine.

Her newfound sense of progress seems to put her in a good mood because when Brittany approaches her, she grins widely, and sweeps her into an adoring hug. "Britt, you look adorable tonight."

She feels the blonde's body tense as she holds her. "Uh, about that, Q…"

Quinn freezes as Artie wheels up behind them. "Have you told her yet?"

"She literally just walked in the door 5 seconds ago, so no... Unless she's developed telepathy, then yes."

Quinn's voice is cold. "Told me what?" She lets go of Brittany.

The blonde pulls out her phone and shows it to the girl. She quickly reads over the headline of the article.

**Cheerios Car Wash Raises Money for Convicted Serial Killer?**

Her mouth drops open. "This doesn't even make any sense! It was for cancer!"

"Actually…"

"Actually what?"

"The sign _might_ have accidentally said 'Craner' instead of 'cancer.'"

"Craner as in Lester Craner? Ohio's most hated? The psychopath who went around murdering people while they used public restrooms?"

"Bastard should've at least had the decency to only be 'alleged,'" Santana adds as she joins the group. They all turn to look at her humorlessly. "What?"

"Who was in charge of making the sign?" Quinn's voice has risen now, looking more pissed off than anything. "Seriously, how does this even happen?"

Brittany looks at her nervously. "Uh—"

"It doesn't even matter at this point. We're so—"

"Fucked," Santana finishes.

Quinn shakes her head as she lets it sink in. "Coach is literally going to put us in body bags." She grabs the Latina's drink.

"Aye!"

"I need it more than you do… Fuck this, I'm over it," She drains the cup rather quickly. "I'm not a fucking babysitter."

Santana is still glaring at her, "I'm glad you're finally okay with dropping the 'F' bomb in public, Barbie, but the next time you grab a drink out of my hand, I will slap you."

Quinn doesn't seem to care though because she stomps away, presumably to refill the cup.

"Well, this is just great," The brunette sighs sarcastically. "Just when she was starting to be fun."

"Yeah, she actually gave me a real hug. At first I thought she was going to try to put me in a chokehold."

"There'll be plenty of time for that on Monday. Might as well have some fun while we have the chance. At least Q got that part right." She begins to dance with Brittany, dragging her into the living room to join the others. Artie eventually joins in, which to her surprise, doesn't bother her as much as it used to. Her eyes keep darting around the room, waiting for Quinn to resurface in the crowd. When she doesn't, she excuses herself and decides to look for her.

She checks for her next to the kegger, in the kitchen, in the line of the girls waiting to use the bathroom; she almost thinks she might have left with Finn except she catches him chatting with Puck as she loops back around toward the front of the house. So she makes her way upstairs and although she regrets checking in the first couple bedrooms, she finds her sitting by herself on one of the beds in the bedroom at the end of the hall, facing away from her. She steps inside and closes the door.

"Quinn?" When the girl doesn't answer, she shuffles nervously in place. "Do you want me to go?" The girl is still despondent. She turns to leave but a soft voice stops her before she can open the door.

"San." She glances over her shoulder to see the girl on her feet, facing her now. When Santana sees her hazel eyes growing dark, she feels a slight shiver pass through her. The blonde closes the distance between them and presses her lips against the exposed skin on her shoulder as she brushes the brunette's hair aside to admire her handiwork from the night before. Soft fingertips trace lazy circles on the caramel skin of her forearm as she feels the blonde's body lean into hers. Her breath is hot and heavy, her words intoxicating even though she can smell the alcohol on her. "I _want_ you."

Santana closes her eyes for a moment, her mouth becoming increasingly dry as she lets herself enjoy the feeling of Quinn pressed against her before she brings herself back to reality. Her voice is firm but her touch is gentle. "We can't do this, Q."

She removes the girl's hand from her forearm and for the smallest of moments she wants Quinn to tell her she's wrong. She wants her to grab her and kiss her passionately; she wants to take back what she said and make her forget the boy she came here with.

But Quinn seems to break almost immediately at her words. Her face crumbles and for a second it looks like she might cry, only she doesn't seem capable of doing so. The hazel eyes that meet hers are full of something she's never seen before. They carry an insurmountable sadness; one the girl is drowning in. One Santana wishes she could fix by reaching out and holding her but the sadness seems too deep. So deep, she feels as if she's drowning with her, the sting of tears playing at her brown eyes, a pang of guilt in her gut for not noticing it before.

"Quinn? Are you up here?" Finn calls out.

And just like that, the hazel eyes seem to bury the sadness. So quickly removed that Santana wonders if she ever saw it to begin with.

Her tone sounds light when she answers. "Yeah. I was wondering where you were." She doesn't meet the brunette's eyes now as she steps past her to open the door.

He smiles when he sees her. "You're going to dance with me, right?"

She shoots him a small grin as she fights to steady herself. "Is that what you call what you do?" She makes her way over to him. "Let's do it."

They make their way to the dance floor and she leans into him as she feels the fuzziness getting to her head. Her earlier contentment with the spreading warmth of the liquor starts to fade as she begins to feel the weariness of it, the loud music and the blurry faces no longer appealing. He steadies her with his hands as they sway together.

His voice is soft and undemanding when he speaks to her. "You're so pretty, Quinn… You're perfect."

She holds on to him a little tighter, trying not to flinch at the words. "What about Rachel?"

"I'm here with you, aren't I?"

When his lips seek out hers, she doesn't pull away. They're familiar. They're safe. They're better than being alone.

_[\\]_

Santana steps out from the bedroom now only to find Puck waiting for her. "What do you want?" She says with a scowl as she makes her way down the stairs, the Mohawked kid keeping pace with her.

"Come on, you can't stay mad at me forever. I figure the fact that I'm still breathing means I'm of better use to you alive."

They reenter the main part of the house before she spins on her heels. "I wouldn't bet on it."

He looks past her now, his mouth slightly agape. "Whoa, who saw that one coming?" She turns around to see Quinn making out with the brunette boy in the middle of the living room.

"Mmm. Me." She answers distractedly.

His attention is back on her now as he continues, "For what it's worth, I am sorry. I didn't think they would actually steal it from your locker."

The Latina grits her teeth before shrugging nonchalantly. "It's McKinley. If you don't know how to jimmy a locker, you probably haven't graduated middle school." The boy grins, realizing it would probably be the closest thing he would get to an 'I forgive you.' She straightens up now, "Like they say, a bad reputation is better than no reputation at all."

"They meaning you and me, right?"

She furrows her brow. "Where's Trouty?"

"Last I saw, he went outside. He looked pretty shitfaced."

_[\\]_

The Latina makes her way outside, and sees the blonde boy sitting with his head between his knees near the stump of a tree.

"Hey."

He looks around for a few moments as if he's unaware of his surroundings before he looks up to see her. He stares at her for a few moments before slurring, "You left me."

She looks at him incredulously. Wasn't he aware she didn't do this touchy feely shit? "I don't have the patience to deal with your emotions right now, Pretty Boy. You're my ride. Give me your keys and I'll take us home."

He stands up now, trying to regain his balance but ends up haphazardly leaning on Santana. She heaves a disgruntled sigh. "Tell me where your keys are."

"Left pocket," He says with a groan. She slips a hand into his jean pocket to retrieve them. Sensing her proximity to his lips, he tries to close the distance between them but is quickly met with her hand.

"I like girls."

His eyes flutter open in surprise but he quickly backs off her. "What? Since when?"

She rolls her eyes. "Since a while. I'm not ready to make a big announcement or anything so calm your tits… I just know that I do."

His question rolls lazily off his tongue, almost as if he can sense its stupidity even in his drunken haze. "How do you know?"

She raises an eyebrow, deciding to humor him. "You know how you feel about Quinn?"

Suddenly, his face softens. "You mean like how I want us to make pottery together? And maybe even—"

Horrified, she quickly cuts him off. "Let me stop ya there. You know, the more you talk, the less I am buying your stripper story… But in a way, minus the pottery, yeah. That's how I feel about… girls in general I guess."

As if he finally senses the weight of her confession, he tries to initiate a hug. "It'll be okay." But he's once again met by her hand.

"Whoa, I'm not _that _drunk, Fish Lips," She says amusedly. His coordination once again fails him as he ends up leaning against her in his drunken stupor. The Latina just shakes her head, noting that if it had been any other guy he would've gotten a swift knee to the groin by now.

"But why did you tell me?"

Her face contorts in confusion as she realizes she doesn't know herself. "You tried to kiss me."

He shakes his head. "Yeah, but you could've lied…" She wonders why she didn't. It would've been so easy and it was something she had gotten pretty damn good at. His lips begin to tug into what she's sure is going to be an obnoxious grin. "Do you _like _someone?"

She looks at him in disgust as she gives him a hard shove that sends him sprawling to the ground. "Stop being such a cheeseball, Evans. No wonder you're never going to get laid."


	8. What Now?

_A/N: Sorry this one took so long. I'm having trouble concentrating on my writing. I don't think I'll ever be satisfied with this chapter but I'm posting it anyway. Thank you for everything! 13 reviews is a record for me. Shout out to my Gracie Face. Can't wait to be older and married with you. ;) Even if it means 'fighting' with you at 3 AM. Even if it means you calling me soft and hating my nicknames. Even if it means me rolling my eyes every time you say something infuriating or unbelievably cocky (which is often). Love you baby. Wanky. x_

* * *

Quinn Fabray had a secret she kept hidden in the topmost drawer of her dresser. It had been there since the beginning of her freshman year at McKinley. It was a secret promise she made to herself, a hope she held onto, a way out of this small Ohio town. Unfortunately, it was a dream crushed before it nearly began. It was the thing that most terrified her. And so the drawer remained shut.

_[\\]_

Neither of the girls had spoken to each other since the party on Saturday night, but all three of them knew that their meeting with Coach Sylvester after school would be less than pleasant. News of the carwash debacle had made its way around Lima, and despite the ridiculousness of the allegations, people were still quick to pass judgment. After all, it didn't take much to create a buzz in a small town.

Still, as Quinn maneuvered the hallways of McKinley on Monday morning, she knew she had more pressing matters to attend to at the moment.

"We need to talk."

Santana scrunches her features up as she slams her locker door and faces the blonde. "God, could you be any less original, Q?"

Quinn ignores her tone and responds evenly. "I need to ask you something."

"What?"

The blonde takes a small breath as if mustering up the courage for what she's about to say next. "Okay. So I know we don't usually do this type of thing but I wanted to apologize for what happened at the party."

The Latina scoffs. "It's fine. I know you didn't mean anything by it. You were drunk and feeling…"

_Sad? Vulnerable? Horny? …?_

Realizing she isn't sure of the answer, she shakes her head and finishes with, "Whatever it is you were feeling."

The blonde looks nervous but keeps her gaze as if trying to study the brunette in front of her. "Is this thing between us really just sex to you?"

Suddenly, Santana's tone is harsh. "Yes. I'm not in love with you if that's what you're worried about…" Seeing how the girl averts her gaze now, she softens a bit. "It doesn't mean that we can't still be friends though. Unholy trinity, and all that."

The girl pauses and her voice is softer now when she speaks. "So it doesn't bother you seeing me with someone else?"

"No." The brunette feels her fingernails digging into her palm as she squeezes her fist, a sure reminder of her deception.

Quinn shakes her head a bit sadly. "It's just—I know I keep saying this, but, I don't know what all this means."

"Q, you really need to stop freaking out about this. It was just sex… We can stop if you want."

Quinn quirks an eyebrow at her, clearly surprised by her words.

The bunette sighs, sounding both irritated and mildly intrigued. "Why do you always do that?"

"Do what?"

"Raise your eyebrow when you speak."

"Do I?" Quinn feels it tugging upward again and immediately feels self-conscious, moving a hand to hold it in its proper place.

The Latina just shakes her head and gently lowers the blonde's hand from her face. "I like it. It's just something I've noticed about you… I'll see you after school, okay?"

The blonde watches her pensively as she leaves, noting it was the gentlest touch Santana had ever given her.

_[\\]_

As the brunette makes her way through the hallway toward her first period class, Sam appears beside her. She tries to lose him in the crowd of oncoming students, hoping to avoid a conversation about the night before.

When he manages to keep up with her, she sighs in annoyance. "Trouty, if you even say the words, 'We need to talk,' I will punch you in your throat."

His eyes widen but he doesn't back off. "I just wanted to thank you for driving me home the other night."

She stops now and eyes him suspiciously. "That's all?"

"And I remember our conversation."

Exasperated, she glares at him before she continues walking. "Fucking fantastic."

The blonde boy walks briskly to keep her pace. "I'm not going to tell anyone. If you need someone to talk to…"

Her eyes dart around for eavesdroppers as she whispers venomously. "Are you offering to be my beard or something? Cause honestly, I don't think people would ever buy the thought of us in a relationship. If you're too vanilla for Q, you're a billion times too vanilla for me."

His features wrinkle in confusion. "Well, I don't know much about being a beard... I don't think I've even heard that term before… But I was thinking maybe we could be friends?"

Bemused, Santana stops again. She looks him over for a few seconds as if trying to figure out his angle but the earnest look he wears seems to soften her. As if deciding he's passed her inspection, she gives a slight nod. "Okay, Vanilla Ice… Ya best not makes me regret this."

"Can we walk to class together?"

She scrunches her features up. "You're killing me…" When he doesn't seem deterred by her words, she relents. "Fine, okay. But if you attempt to talk to me in an alien language, I can't be held responsible for my actions."

A small smile spreads across the boy's face. "Fair enough."

_[\\]_

Even though classes move along at their usual pace, it isn't long before Brittany, Santana, and Quinn find themselves face to face with Sue Sylvester.

The blonde woman stares at them sternly across the expanse of her wooden desk. "You know, we really have to stop meeting like this. Do _any_ of you know what the word 'discipline' means?"

Brittany raises her hand slightly. "Yes. Jesus had 12 of them."

"Shut it, butt brain. I want to know exactly what happened. Quinn?"

The girl looks hesitant but answers anyway. "There isn't much to explain. We didn't realize the sign said 'Craner' instead of 'cancer' until we read about it online. It doesn't even make sense that we would have a car wash to raise money for a killer. It's not our fault that people will believe anything the news stations put out. I was in charge of putting it all together. I don't think I should be blamed for this too."

"Who was in charge of the sign?"

"My cousin," Brittany answers.

Santana looks at her with confusion. "You don't have a cousin."

Sue looks between the pair of them before finally settling on Brittany. "Does mental illness run in your family?"

She shrugs nonchalantly. "I have an uncle who likes Tom Cruise."

The woman seems to take in the information before she sighs in resignation. "Well, this is great. I'm surrounded by idiots… The board meeting discussing the future of the Cheerios will be on Wednesday, which means that when you're speaking at the abstinence seminar tomorrow, I expect you all of you to look as virginal as possible. That includes you, Sandbags."

The girls nod and she dismisses them with a wave of her hand. "Get out." Brittany and Santana exit first but before Quinn can leave the office, the woman calls out to her. "I'm disappointed in you, Fabray."

Quinn feels a tiny spark of anger ignite within her as she turns on her heels. "You don't get to say that to me."

Sue leans over her desk now with a challenging stare. "Oh, yeah? _What are you going to do about it?_ Quit?"

Instead of answering the question, the blonde girl turns on her and walks out.

_[\\]_

Quinn sits in her car as she waits for Santana outside her house. She sighs to herself, uncertain how she should act around the girl anymore as their relationship was becoming increasingly confusing to her. The Latina finally emerges from the front door and Quinn can't help but immediately notice her chaste dress. The blonde feels her lips twitching into a smile, but somehow manages to swallow it before the girl enters the car.

"Thanks for picking me up."

The blonde nods and starts the car. Her voice is even now, almost indifferent. "No problem."

"No Mumford and Sons today?" Santana asks sarcastically.

Quinn shrugs and drives away. "You can pick out something."

They pause at an intersection in order to merge onto the main road. Santana seems to have picked up on her mood though because she stares at her quizzically. "Coach shouldn't have been so hard on you."

Another little shrug. "It is what it is."

Santana almost feels annoyed but decides to try again. "I'm sure everything will go smoothly."

Quinn feels herself growing agitated. "I don't really feel like talking right now." The girl seems dejected as she turns to stare out the window, which causes the blonde to bite at the inside of her cheek. A few moments pass before she decides to try to make peace. "You look cute today."

The Latina doesn't make eye contact but responds. "I feel weird. I don't think my skin is used to being this covered up…" She looks over at her friend now in her little yellow dress and almost reaches out to touch it but quickly corrects the gesture by changing the radio station instead. "I always liked that dress on you."

The girl seems to frown noticeably now. "You always make fun of me for wearing dresses like this."

This elicits a chuckle from the Latina. "Well, they're a little too 'Sunday school' for me but you make them look hot…" She wonders if she should press her luck with the girl but figures she doesn't have anything to lose. "Makes me feel like I'm fucking the preacher's daughter or something."

Her eyes widen immediately as her face turns a deep shade of red. "Santana," Quinn squeals. She isn't sure whether to scold her or drive the car off the nearest bridge.

Santana just looks at her amusedly. "Don't be so serious. I'm just joking."

The girl pulls into a parking spot at the middle school. Her face is still flushed as she struggles to find words. "Well, we're here."

The brunette just rolls her eyes. "Thanks, Q. _I can see that_." Seeing as how this seems to make the girl blush all over again, she just unbuckles herself and steps out of the car. "God, Fabray. You're hopeless."

_[\\]_

As they enter the auditorium of McKinley Middle School, they're met with a bunch of disinterested stares, though they catch a few boys who seem interested for all the wrong reasons. They make their way toward the man in the front that seems to be in charge of the event as he's talking animatedly to a few other Cheerios, his left hand gripping a microphone.

"Hi, ladies," He greets them as they approach. "So just to give you an idea of what's going to happen today, I'm going to be doing most of the talking but once we open the floor to questions and comments, I'll hand a microphone over to you so you can share your sentiments on the subject of abstinence."

"So like, what do you want us to say?" Santana asks evenly.

He smiles as he shoots Quinn a questioning glance, but she just shrugs. "Something along the lines of how abstinence will enrich their lives and keep them on the straight and narrow."

"So, you want us to lie?" The Latina asks as if needing clarification.

His smile quickly fades. "Do what you need to, sister. I don't really get paid that much for this." His smile quickly returns as he takes the center of the stage. "Hi, McKinley Middle School!"

The crowd seems less than enthusiastic but the teachers clap anyway. The cheerleaders watch as he speaks, his hand gestures growing increasingly animated.

"What if he passes out or something?" Brittany asks.

Erin appears behind her. "It's possible. At least then we'd be out of this mess."

The speaker seems to go on for a while before he finally gestures for the girls to join him on stage. They all shuffle out, seeming a bit hesitant about the whole thing.

"And now, we're going to hear from some of McKinley High's Cheerios." He hands grabs a second microphone and hands it over to Alex.

She freezes as soon as it's in her grasp, which causes Santana to snicker. "Hello… children… don't do… sex."

Quinn takes the microphone from her now, seeming confident in her words. "Abstinence can be a good thing, especially if you're saving yourself for the right person. It might be hard but I think it can be worth it in the long run. Sex can complicate things…" She eyes Santana for a moment, and the Latina raises an eyebrow at her questioningly. "So you should wait until you're ready and old enough to deal with those complications." She hands the microphone to her now.

"That is a very good point, miss. Nicely said," The speaker says with a smile. "Who's next?"

The Latina smirks. "If you're going to be abstinent, at least learn how to masturbate properly."

Brittany grabs the mic now. "It _is_ okay to touch yourselves…" When she hears a few snickers from the audience, she feels the need to clarify. "Only yourselves though, not other people… Unless they ask you to."

Horrified, the main speaker quickly interjects. "But if other people ask you to touch them, what do we say?" When the auditorium stays silent, he answers his own question, "No!"

Brittany echoes him. "No."

He gives her a grateful smile. "That's right: No!"

"No, I mean I usually say yes—"

Sensing the desperation of the situation, Erin steals the mic from Brittany's grasp. "To condoms… Because if you aren't going to be abstinent, you might as well be STD free!"

_[\\]_

The three girls lay spread out on Brittany Pierce's trampoline in her backyard. It had been something of a tradition between them that was started in middle school. As they had entered high school, their trampoline meetings became far less frequent as they became increasingly involved in their own drama. Though, in light of recent events, they felt a twinge of nostalgia for the old days.

"How do you think it went?" Santana asks breaking the silence.

"I'm not sure I care anymore," Quinn says honestly.

Brittany turns over on her stomach. "I don't think it was so bad. Some of the kids seemed to like it."

The brunette mimics her best friend so she can face her. "It's just weird to think that maybe this will all be over by the end of the week... It feels like we've been through a lot together lately."

"I'm sure they'll still let us finish up the season," Quinn speaks up. "With regionals being on Saturday, they really can't afford for us not to."

"Yeah, but if we lose regionals, the season will be over for us anyway," The Latina says pointedly.

The blonde's voice is softer now. "Would it be so bad?"

Santana furrows her eyebrows together. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. It just doesn't seem so important anymore."

"We worked hard to make it this far… Seems kind of pointless to give up now."

Brittany shakes her head. "This is depressing… I'm going to get cupcakes. Who wants rainbow sprinkles?" Both girls immediately raise their hands, causing her to chuckle as she makes her way off the trampoline. "Coming right up."

Santana looks over at Quinn now but the girl seems far removed from their surroundings. The sight of the blonde in her little gym shorts as she looks up at the stars makes her a little heart sore. The sadness from the other night seems to surface in her eyes and Santana realizes it hadn't been a figment of her imagination after all. She longs to ask her about it but it doesn't seem the right time. The distance between them feels as if it's growing by the second and she feels the urgency to close it before it's too late. She wants this moment for herself. Selfish maybe, but to hell with the consequences. She deserved one moment, one moment with Quinn that didn't involve agenda or expectation. The sadness could wait.

The Latina reaches out her arms and pulls the girl closer as the blonde quirks an eyebrow at her.

_That goddamn eyebrow. _

Even though her words are typical, they carry no innuendo. Her smile is playful and teasing. "I'm getting a bit chilly. Warm me up?"

The blonde laughs lightly and Santana smiles at the sound of her laughter, wondering why she hadn't spent more time trying to hear it. The girl looks up at her expectantly and the brunette notices the way her eyes shine brilliantly in the glow of the dim lighting; green flecks flicker and dance in her alluring pools of hazel. Her fingertips graze the outline of her delicate lips so that she feels her shallow breaths tickle them ever so slightly. She leans in toward the blonde now, not breaking eye contact until the moment right before their lips touch. The girl seems to sigh contently into her kiss, the gentleness of it catching her by surprise.

Quinn keeps still beneath her, knowing better than to ask for more. It's the first time she feels like she's really being _kissed_. Unlike their previous kisses, the heat that courses through her body goes straight to her heart.


End file.
